


Wrong questions, Right responses.

by Ab0019



Series: All the wrong questions [1]
Category: All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Do people even read tags?, Does this mean El and Hopper are apart of VFD?, How do people make these things so long?, I have a dog named Taco in case anyone cared, I have the worst luck when it comes to viewers and I want to drag people to the dark side, I promise I’ll got to sleep instead of watching Bates Motel, If I make gay ships will more people read this?, It’s Santa Clarita Diet, It’s called American profanity, I’ll probably get 2 chapters done and give up, I’m done, More characters to come, Should I be getting sleep instead of this, Will anyone read this?, Yah girl learned something today, You know what’s a good show other then Stranger Things?, all I had to do was look on American Twitter, can so one please read this, hahahah yes., hastily awaiting November, hey my names amber, i can’t read tnis, i don’t know you tell me, i really want to get to “Shouldn’t you be in school”, ill even draw the pictures, it took 6+ hours to write chapter 3, just please read it, okay i’m done, or the original book, please read it for me, these tags have nothing to do with the plot and I’m honestly living for this, whatever happened to Mr. Ball legs?, you guys swear a lot more then you need to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ab0019/pseuds/Ab0019
Summary: Jane “El” Ives was never supposed to end up in Hawkins, Indiana. She was never supposed to be working as the apprentice of a drunk low-ranked volunteer, nor was she supposed to be looking for a long forgotten statue.But then again, 13 year olds shouldn’t be left to solve potentially life threatening mysteries, so what’s the worst that can happen?***Basically an “All the wrong questions” AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for clicking on my fic!
> 
> Before you jump into this madness, I do suggest you read All the wrong questions by Lemony Snicket before you read this, as it contains massive spoilers for all 4 books. I really tried to match ST characters to ATWQ characters, but please forgive me if it doesn’t fit 100%, but unfortunately just started to fill in whatever was left by the time I got to Pip and Squeak.
> 
> I’m 95% sure there is not an All the wrong questions AU in existence, but if there is I deeply apologize. Partial credit to Midastouchofangst for their ASOUE AU, which some what gave me the idea for this.
> 
> That should be it.. enjoy!
> 
> *I DO NOT OWN STRANGER THINGS OR ALL THE WRONG QUESTIONS. ALL CREDIT GOES TO ORIGINAL AUTHORS.*

TO: **WALLEYE**

**FROM: J.I.**

**FILE UNDER: HAWKINS-INDIANA. ACCOUNTS OF; THEFT, INVESTIGATION OF; M. BRENNER; HAWSERS; INK; DOUBLE-CROSSING; ET CETERA**

**1/4**

**CC: VFDhq**

 

There was a town- if you’d even call it that, with so little people and excitement, I wouldn’t even call it a village- and there was a man, and then there was a theft. 

I had lived in town, and within that town, I’d been hired to investigate the theft. Now, over time I’d learned that no one can be trusted, but this girl.. This girl was different.

She was quite outgoing and seemed to be scared of noting. She always seemed to be good at everything and anything. She seemed to be very good at convincing people, so skilled to the point that I even considered suggesting her to the organization. But, that was when I still thought I could trust her, and before she used her skills on me.

I was about 13 then, I was 13 and oh-so-very-wrong. I was wrong about all of it, actually. Walking into this case, I asked “Why would someone steal such an object?”, when really I should have asked “Why would someone steal something that was never theirs to begin with?”.

But, that was not the only wrong question I asked during my stay in Hawkins, as over the course of my stay I would ask 4 very wrong questions.

This is the account of the first.

***

The Hamlock Tearoom always seemed to be dirty, even when it was clean. 

Today was not one of the day it was clean, though.

Most of the food here is too unsettling to eat and enjoy, especially the eggs.

in fact they’re so bad, they’re so bad that it’s probably to worst eggs in this entire town, if not the entire state.

The Hemlock also seems to seek paper and pens, though theg work just as good as the eggs taste. Now, considering how dirty the area is and how terrible it’s goods are, one may assume that The Hemlock has nothing good to offer and that’s its better to just go somewhere else to accomplish whatever they were here to do to begin with, but that’s where  one would be wrong.

Out of all the unsatisfactory things in the place, the tea is one of the best in this town, and is a good place to stop as you wait for the train across the street. 

This is where I happened to find myself one morning with my parents. We had decided to stop at the Hemlock before o boarded the train I would ride to a new life.

I’d been wearing the dress I’d been given for a graduation present, a graduation present that I’ve never worn and hung in my closet for a while without removal. If a piece of clothing had feelings, I’m sure it would feel glum and thirsty for someone to wear it.

But clothingwead doesn’t have any feelings and instead I’m the one who feels glum and thirsty.

This is why I was exited to see the drinkable tea arrive with it’s tower of steam, which floated to snot 2 feet above the mug.

I staired at the steam for a good 5 seconds before I mumbled a quick thank you to whoever delivered it to be, which I  wish I’d taken longer to do.

I told myself that it didn’t matter how long it took for me to show my graciousness and that as long as I thanked the person it would be fine.

‘You have work to do, Ives, there’s no time for moping.’

Finally looked up from my steamy cup of tea to see my smiling parents- their grins far too big to be real.

’How would they look to strangers?’ I thought to myself as they continued to wear their huge grins.

My father had huge shoulders and snow-white hair. He seemed to be in his late 50’s, and he dressed like a real serious man, so maybe strangers would think he works in a huge office with many other important people.

As for my mother, she wore a pastel-yellow dress with a white ribbon tied around her waist. She had greyish hair and wrinkles that she obviously didn’t want to except. Someone would probably think she was a stay at home mom, that is if she were a mother.

The more I staired, the mote their smiles seemed to grow. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, turning away from their disturbing grins.

Unfortunately, though, this seemed to make things more awkward. 

Once again, I tried to makes things less unpleasant, this time by saying the first thing that came to mind.

“So, I’m leaving you all for the first. How do you feel about this?”

My Mom was the first to respond, though not the way I thought she would.

”You have plenty of time before your train, daughter, would you like to eat something before your trip? I heard the eggs here are to die for.” My mother dodged my original question and used ‘Daughther’ like one would use ‘Son’ as a nick name.

”No, thank you.” I mumbled suspiciously.

“Now Jane, you do know how proud we are of you?” My father butted in.

I tryed to put on a fake smile- like the one they had been wearing only a few seconds prior - before speaking again, making sure I didn’t sound to sarcastic.

”Yes. You are very proud of me, very proud of me indeed.” 

My mother clapped with excitement after I finished speaking.

”Oh, great! I say to take a drink of tea to celebrate, before it gets cold or your train arrives. Won’t you?” She said, pushing the tea towards me.

I staired down at my tea before my mother pushed all the way into my lap- thank gosh I had a napkin over my dress, as it sloshed a little onto me.

”I suppose it is getting a little co-“

”Go on and drink your tea, Jane.” My father said sternly.

I cringed as he spoke, his words feeling like a knife being scratched across a chalkboard.

I hastily picked the cup up by the handle, bringing it to my lips for a refreshing sip..

Or I would have, at least, if a man didn’t stop by our table and asked us a question.

”Excuse me, do you happen to know where I could find the bathroom in this place? I’ve seemed to have a little to much to drink and I’m not familiar with this town.” He asked semi-cheerfully.

My father scowled at the man as he stood up.

”You seem to be blind, sir, as there is a huge bathroom sign hanging in front of the entrance you just entered.” He spit as he pointed to the sign.

The man’s face fell a little at the comment, but suddenly seemed to rejoice when he spotted me.

”Why is this your daughter? Well isn’t she just lovely. Say, what’s your name dear?” He asked as he grabbed my hand.

This displeased My father severely, as he practically threw the man into another table.

”You get the hell away from Jane, you hear me? If I ever see you anywhere near her again, I will have your head on a stake.” He growled from a distance.

But the man didn’t react. He just stood there for a few seconds.

”I’m sorry to have disturbed you, sir. I’ll just be on my way now.” The stranger mumbled as he walked off, notably towards to entrance instead of the bathroom.

“Idiot alcoholics disturbing my family time.” My father mumbled once he left the building.

While my parents started to talk to each other again, I carfully opened the palm of my hand, the one the man shook.

And inside, there was a carefully folded note.

I gasped internally as I threw the object onto my lap, that way nor my mother of father could see it.

Now, I’ve never really been one for dresses, but this was one of the only times they came in handy.

While normal people use dresses for when they go out on dates or when they go dancing, I was in no way shape of forum normal.

That is why I used my dress as a hiding place for this note, because anyone with manners or respect would know that lifting up a dress is an extremely disrespectful task and should never be done.

I sighed deeply and looked down into my lap to make it look like I’d been lost in my thoughts.

What was really happening, though, was the reading of my note.

I quickly and quitely opened the paper and began to read, knowing I wouldn’t have much time before my parents noted my strange position.

  _Climb out the window in the bathroom and meet me in the alley behind the shop. I will be waiting in the rusty police cruiser. You have 5 minutes. -J_

I reread to note a few times, wondering to myself why anyone would sign a secret note, even if they only signed it “J”. A secret note is secret, therefore there in no reason the sign it.

”Are you alright, Jane?” My father asked a lot more calmly then they way he had been speaking only a few minutes prior. 

“I need to excuse myself.” I said quickly as I got to my feet.

But, my father seemed to want nothing to do with this.

”Jane, you haven’t even had a sip of tea. I _highly_ suggest you drink some before your ride.”

” _Father,_ ” I said sternly.

”Let her go, Martin. She’s Thirteen, it’s a difficult age..” My mother finally said.

Not that I would have heard her. By the time she finished talk, I had been halfway to the bathroom.

 ***

I hurried into the bathroom and ran into the bathroom stall closest to the window.

it had been very small and looked like only a child could fit through it.

luckily, though, I was a child.

I hastily jumped on top of the toilet tank and attempted to reach the window, but found that I had been a little to short.

Looking around, I managed to find a weird book rich with pages.

The title read “The incomplete history of secret organizations”.

’Why would anyone leave a book like this in here?’ I asked myself.

But I didn’t have time to ask myself questions. I quickly tossed the book onto the tank and proper myself up. 

And thankfuly, I just managed to reach the window.

Carefully and swiftly I climbed through the window and onto the muddy streets, less then 10 feet away from the cruiser.

”Could you have taken any longer? I was about to leave without you!” The man from earlier called.

I quickly ran to the car and opened up the side door.

”I’m sorry, my father didn’t want me to leave and it took a while for my mother to pry him off..” I said as I closed the door.

The man sighed before speaking again.

”The names J. Hopper. And before you go on and tell me your name, I already know it. It’s Jane Ives and blah blah blah, I don’t care. We’re on a tight schedule here.”

”It’s El. El Ives.. My father and mother called me Jane and I want nothing to do with them.” I corrected him.

He obviously didn’t like this, as he almost yelled his next sentence.

”Get out.”

I staired in shock at the man - Hopper - before speaking again.

”What?” I managed to ask.

”I will not be spoken to this way. I am of higher rank and therefore you must respect me. Get out.” Hopper growled.

”I’m sorry.”

”Get out.” Hopper spoke again.

I took a quick deep breath and repeated myself once more.

”I’m sorry.”

”Do you want to work with me? Do you want me to be your chaperone?” He asked.

‘Did I?’ I asked myself.

”Yes.” I said uncertainly.

”Then know this.” Hopper said. “I’m not your friend. I am not your teacher. I am not here to take care of you. You are my apprentice, a word which here mean ‘a person who works under me and does everything I tell them to do. Do you understand? He questioned.

”Yes.” I answered, finishing the conversation.

***

”What’s the J stand for?” I asked Hopper once we were about 30 minuets into the drive.

”Just shut up and do what I tell you to do.” He responded groggily.

I stirred in my seat to look away from the man, but stopped when I saw a familiar object.

On Hopper’s dashboard sat a full tea cup with the word ‘Hemlock’ printed on the side.

”You didn’t notice that In stole your tea, did you?” He asked, grabbing the cup and throwing it out the window.

I watched as the liquid splash onto the ground and the steam rise into the air. It smelled like sweet at wrong all at the same time. Like a dangerous flower.

”Laudanum.” Hopper spoke. “It’s an opiate. A medicament. It’s a sleeping draught. It’s something I’ll be on half the time because when you’ve seen as much as I do you don’t get sleep.” He added.

Hopper turned and looked at me for the first time since our meeting in Hemlock. He looked decent enough, a trim around the beard wouldn’t hurt, but he looked decent. Not that I would tell him.

”Three sips of that and you would have been incoherent, a word which here mean ‘mumbling crazy talk and nearly unconscious. You would have missed your train. Your parents would most likely hurry you out and take you I’m assure you that you would not like to be.”

We had long passed the forgotten tea but I couldn’t help but stair at the ground.

If I had drinker that tea, I wouldn’t be here in the cruiser and I’d be somewhere completely different. I would never had fallen into the wrong tree or walking into the wrong basement or destroying the wrong library, or even finding the right questions to the wrong ones I was asking. 

Hopper was right, there was no one to take care of me.

I was hungry, and I’d let her down. I’d have find a way to reach her once we get to wherever we’re going.

I’d have to.

”Those.. those weren’t my parents.” I managed to speak.

Hopper look back at me through his mirror, adjusting it to meet my eye level.

”I know, kid, I kind of figured.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post, I’ve somehow managed to end up reading 4 books at once that I could never reading during my school year (even though no one cares or can even read the titles, because ya girl goes to a German speaking school and is reading books written in English) and have been trying to keep a steady track on all of them. Overall, that means I’m basically spending half of my day locked inside my apartment reading chapter after chapter.
> 
> Yeah, sorry, my fault. 
> 
> Anyway, I can not stress enough how much you all should read ATWQ, especially if you enjoyed A Series of Unfortunate Events. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On another note, I’ve recently re-read ATWQ and made it a point to change Ellington’s role (originally going to be Jonathan) to Max. I know this is SUPER unprofessional and I should have decided my characters from the beinging, but I had to do it to keep it more true to the story. (BUT DON’T WORRY! Jonathan will still appear and even become a major part of the story! And, in this version, Will will actually show up instead of just being talked about)

Depending on who you ask, you can potentially get a map to Hawkins, Indiana. Unfortunately, though, this is not the case most of the time. Known only for it’s history of the blackest ink available, Hawkins thrived as a huge tourist spot for thousands of families to visit the giant ink farms available.

This had been the case of a solid 30 years, that is until the octopi of Hawkin’s only quarry (an odd phenomenon known only to occur in Hawkins, as octopi are known to be only in oceans or large bodies of water) used to produce the ink started to fade.

In fact the number of octopi had dropped so low, that they town had decided to _drain_ to body of water just so it would be easier to locate the remanders.

While most people know nothing of this town and how it thrived, I managed to be one of the ‘lucky’ ones to learn about this during my apprenticeship in Hawkins, instead of the city where I was originally supposed to go. I figured this out when Hopper drove past the train station without slowing down.

”Aren’t we taking the train?” I asked from the backseat.

”That’s a wrong question, kid.” Hopper grunted. “There’s a change in plans, and we’re needed somewhere else.” 

I staired in aw as Hopper spoke. 

“But, I thought we were need across town! Where else in the city are we needed?” I stuttered.

Hopper sighed as adjusted his position in annoyance.

”That’s exactly what I mean, kid! You thought we were needed in town, when really where not even  _working_ here at all.”

I suddenly felt like I had butterflies in my stomach as the car took a sharp turn past a construction sight, with a giant hole in the middle of it.

If it were possible for an apprentice to sneak away for lunch, I was supposed to meet up with someone and messure how far the whole stretched with a fancy new measuring tape I had in my suitcase.

_My suitcase._

”My suitcase, I left in at the train station!” I panicked.

But Hopper didn’t seem to notice at all, in fact he didn’t any emotion towards my situation.

”You’re fine. I purchased some clothes for you. I was given your measurements, but if it’s to big or small I can’t do anything about it.”  

I glanced at him with a puzzled look.

”Why not? If it’s to small, you can loosen the tension by cutting it, and if it’s to big then you can brooch it.”

Hopper glaired at me through his front mirror.

”Kid, we’re trying to bring as little attention to use as possible. People will notice if your outfit is all cut up.” He mumbled.

I sighed as I peered out the window and thought about all the things I’d lose by going to a forgotten town oppose to a vibrant city.

Sure, the clothes would have been nice to have on hand, but there was other things as well.

There was a strange object resembling half a spyglass that was able to do a number of thing. It could work as a flashlight, and it could work as something that could decode, well, codes. It could provide heat, in case you were ever stuck in a situation were you would need heat. And, if you ever got to that point, you could mostly do a fair amount of damage by hitting a person over the head with it.

Granted, though, you’d need both pieces for that.

I also had a fair amount a makeup, in case I’d ever need to use it. Back when I had been taught to do everything I’m doing, the organization forced everyone to take a makeup-disguise class. 

They claimed that “you would need to blend in with any surroundings you might meet with.” and “There’s a number of posts that require a full face of makeup.”, but I’m pretty sure it was just a bunch a spoof.

There were books, about the underground sewer system to use when my associate and I are going are going to use the sewer system.

Well,  _were_ going to use the sewer system.

I frowned as I thought about my associate. 

While I had briefly thought about what danger I’m putting her in by abandoning her a few times, this was the first time I really thought about I was _really_ doing to her.

’I’ll need to find a way to communicate to her when I arrive’ I quickly thought to myself before Hopper made a grumbling noise to get my attention.

”I’m not enjoying your silence.” Hopper growled, breaking the awkward silence. “That means talk, say something, anything.”

”Are we there yet?” I asked cheerfully, though any kid stuck in a car knows that’s the wrong question to ask the driver.

”Where are we going?” I tried instead. 

But instead of getting an answer, I got more silence from Hopper.

I inhaled and exhaled before deciding to speak again, this time using a question I had asked a few times before.

”What does the J stand for?”

”Just stop asking questions and I’ll tell you where we’re going.” Hopper finally responded.

 Unfortunately for me, though, this was true. Pretty soon we’d past the city that I was supposed to take the train to. (Or at least I though that was the case, I don’t have a clue on what would have happened if I had drunken that tea.)

We passed countless neighborhoods and a few school districts. A plethora of shopping malls and small businesses. We even passed a small lake where kids could swim.

But whatever way you put it, I wasn’t going to join my associate.

Long after Hopper and I passed the town where we first met, I’d find that we were riding on a rode with a foul smell- a smell  so bad that we had to close he windows.

And pretty soon, after the day seemed wind down more and more, fewer cars seem to occupy to rodeo.

I even found myself drifting off a few times, especially with how little conversation Hopper and I had shared.

Unfortunately, though, a new sound rattled me out of my slumber.

The noise was fought and had quite a bit of crackling, almost as if we’d been driving on stones.

”We’re driving on stones.” My chaperone mumbled in explanation. “We’re here.”

I gave Hopper a puzzled glance in return.

”Who would pave a ride in rocks? I can imagine it causing quite a few flat tires..” 

But, my question seemed to bethe wrong one. I knew this because Hopper shot me a unhappy glare soon after.

”Nobody paved it, and these roads. This entire area.” Hopper spoke as he pointed to the area around us. “Used to be completely underwater. I was drained years ago, and you can see-“

Hopper’s rambling was cut off by a loud whistle before he could finish.

This apparently did not make him happy, as he gave an even bigger frown then he already was wearing in response.

”Hand me the two masks in the back, will yah kid?” He finally asked.

“Masks?” I questioned.

Instead of telling me why I needed to hand him a mask, Hopper criticized my repeating of what he’d just said.

”Don’t repeat what I say, El. You’re not a bird, you’re an apprentice. Act like one.” Hopper mumbled. “Also, the masks are in the back. We need them.”

I quickly reached back and found the items in question, but took a moment to stair at them for a second due to their.. well, I didn’t know how to describe them.

Just as Hopper said, there was two masks, both identical to the other. I was made of some sort of flashy silver metal, and on the back housed a tangle of rubbery tubes that looked like they were bought on mark-down. 

On the front were to small slits for eyes and a slightly smaller one for the nose. Surprisingly, though, there wasn’t a whole for the mouth.  

In all though, it looked like some sort of Si-Fi mannequin head pleading to head home because this journey was a bad idea.

I couldn’t agree more.

Hopper frowned as he grabbed one of the masks from my hands. 

“The bell means we should wear the masks, not stair at them. There so you can breathe, you know, with all this water pressure.”

”Water pressure?” I questioned as I slid on the mask.

”Yes, water pressure. It’s everywhere, kid. Use your head.” He mumbled in response.

I peered our the window where we had stopped, you know, write where a what’s seemed to be the only body of water used to reside.

And, as expected, there was no water. There hadn’t been any water in a long time. 

Most people would have asked ‘How can there be water pressure if there’s no water?’, but instead I found myself asking a different question.

”Why did they drain the.. lake? Pond?”

”Quarry.”

”Why did the drain the quarry? Why did they do this?”

Hopper sighed as he slid on his own mask.

”To save the town.”

It wasn’t until a little while after Hopper’s last comment that be spoke again, this time bearing a question.

“Is the mask working? My chaperone questioned.

”How can I tell?”

Hopper grumbled in annoyance as he fixed his own mask.

”If you can breath, then it works.”

I nodded my head to show that I was indeed able to breath.

What I didn’t do, though, was explain how even without the mask I was able to breath.

This was due to something outside my window of the parked car.

About 40 feet away from Hopper and I stood about 12 neatly lined barrels with a few splotches of an extremely dark substance to decorate them.

There has also been a few worker’s warring black and white striped suits, who had seemed to be checking on several bobbing machines.

The machinery looked like giant hypodermic needles connected to giant gears that made them go up and down, almost like the earth was getting a giant shot.

I shivered at the thought of being injected with such a big needle.

With each dip, the needle splashed puddles of.. actually, I’m not sure what the black substance was.

”Is the substance their pulling from the ground oil?” I questioned my chaperone.

”Ink,” Hopper corrected. “This town, Hawkins, is known for producing some of the darkest, most permanent ink.”

I staired in amazement as the machines continued their work.

”And the ink is in those holes?” I asked a little to happily.

”The holes are long, narrow caves leading to larger caves where octopi live.”

Octopi?

”I thought Octopi only produce ink when their scared.” I questioned.

Hopper let out a hollow laugh.

”Kid, if a giant needle where about to stab me, I’d ink a little too.” 

It wasn’t long before Hopper started up the cruiser and starred winding the crunchy path.

And it was even a few minutes after the car started that the bell rang again, presumably telling us it was okay to remove our masks.

Now that I was able to take in my surroundings a little more.

We passed a worn down lighthouse with an even more worn down sign reading ‘Hawkins News’

We passed a bleached cottage with a smoky cottage.

But the most notable thing happened to be a giant mansion. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and I couldn’t help help but wonder why such a wealthy family would stay in such a worthless town.

It looked like a castle so tall that it could scrape across the sky. Is had an amazing paint job that looked like it could be recent and had beautiful shrubs to decorate the outside. If I were here on a trip to somewhere else (pretty much anywhere else) I’d guess it were a museum due to how well it kept.

But, like most things that happened during my apprenticeship in Hawkins, Indiana, all good things come to an end.

Pretty soon Hopper has barked at me to get out of the car. 

This also happened to be the first time I got a good luck at what I’d be dealing with. 

He had fairly shabby hair and was in desperate need of a shave- something I thought I needed. I’m pretty sure if you really wanted if you really wanted to, you could probably sand something on his beard.

I snickered at the thought of rubbing a piece of wood across his face.

This did not seem to please my chaperone, as he was quick to get to the point.

”Listen to me, kid. You’re on probation. You perchant for asking way to many questions. ‘Perchant’ is a fancy word for ‘habit’” Hopper growled.

”I know what ‘perchant’ means.” I murmured in dismay.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about!” He snapped back at me.

I watched as Hoper attempted to tame his shabby hair, but eventually gave up and covered it with a hat.

And then he was off again, stalking the only paved road I’ve seen so far.

I had to run to keep up with him. And when I did catch up, he just told me to not talk instead of apologizing for not waiting for his apprentice.

”Our first client lives here, and you are to let me do the talking. I’m very good at what I do, and you will learn to be as good as me if you listen to me, got it?” He asked smugly.

I nodded my head, but didn’t say anything in response.

Shortly before my graduation I was given a list of people for all the people I could apprentice for. The list was ranked from best skill level to worst, 1 through 52.

People fought over number one, hoping for only the best of teaching.

But I settled on number fifty-two, who just happened to be the man walking in front of me.

He was wrong, he wasn’t good at his job. And I knew that walking into this. I knew that he was the worst because that  _why_ I picked him.

I had pictured working as an apprentice in the city, completing something with one of the few people I trust.

But now that I stand in front of a mansion miles from the person I trust, I realize that this is how I’m going to live for possibly he next few month.

I followed Hopper up the driveway and up a couple stairs, and where he rang the doorbell 6 times in a row.

I felt wrong doing what I’m doing, standing in front of the wrong door in the wrong place in the wrong city.

Yet were here.

Knowing something is wrong and counting to do the wrong things happens quite a bit in life, though I doubt we will ever know why do do the wrong things we do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ink worker’s outfits are IN.
> 
> (Someone please stop me)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my names Amber, and I spend my time listening to show tunes and looking at memes instead of writing a story that no one will read.
> 
> Anyway, we finally get to meet everyone’s favorite black haired, sweater wearing, soft boi. (And the best part is, I didn’t need to write THAT part where S. Theadora Markason said she was on a honey moon with a young Lemony Snicket, because “That’s just weird and bad improv.” - Me, the queen of bad improv.)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the story.

After the sixth ring of the doorbell, footsteps became audible from behind the door.

But the foot steps felt like they were miles away.

Infact, it felt like I wasn’t even standing here in front of a mansion, on top of a hill, in a town that seemed to have very few residents.

Instead it seemed like I was back in the city, back in the city with  _her_. I had no need for these odd masks or cut up (or brooch) clothing. I would spend my days with someone I trusted instead of a stranger I’m not even sure is sober.

But mostly, I wouldn’t be so very hungry. I was going to eat on the train, but instead found myself in a beat up cruiser without any sort of snacks.

Back in the city, I have lush sandwiches and bubbling beverages, crispy chips and delicious deserts..

But in Hawkins, I found my stomach growling something awful.

That was why I took little notice when the door finally swung open, and when Hopper and I had been lead through a long hallway by some kind of butler who I would soon learn his something sinister.

Soon enough though, we’d approach to over-sized double doors leading a an even bigger library.

I should have payed attention, and payed attention good. Now, normally children- not just children like myself- are taught to pay attention to things such as adults, emotions, and their surroundings. 

I, however, failed to preform such a task, therefore missed just how odd the library was.

For such a large library, it had only about 100 books at most, most of which had been completely blank.

If I had payed attention to my surroundings, I would have noticed the odd furniture used in the library. 

But I didn’t even think twice as the butler  closed the door behind Hopper and I, but instead hurried quickly to a table topped with a tea kettle and a plate of cookies.

I eagerly picked one of the cookies up (not bothering with the tea for obvious reasons..) to get a closer look. Upon inspection, I found that they had been almond and quickly popped one of them into my mouth.

And then another,

And another,

And another one, and I did so until only one cookie remained.

 _”It’s rude to take the last cookie, Jane.”_ I could hear my associate’s nagging voice as I walked back to where Hopper stood.

But he didn’t take note in my hospitality of leaving a cookie.

”Not proper, El,” he said, shaking his head. “Not proper at all.”

I frowned as Hopper staired at me in disapproval.

”I saved you one..” I finally mumbled

”Stop talking and come sit down.” He growled as he taped the sofa beside him.

”The butler told as wait, so we will wait.”

And so we waited. We waited long enough that eventually I started to look for something to read.

Walking over to the towering shelves, I quickly found myself displeased with the selection.

There was quite a few books that you would receive from your great aunt, but would shove under your bed where they’d stay until you discovered them a few years later.

I read a few chapters on a book about a kid named Johnny. He lived in a time when America was still England. From what I read, he had a pretty uneventful life, that was until he burned his hand and was unable to work as a silversmith. 

Now, a silversmith was a lesser-known and honestly way less interesting version of a blacksmith, so if I were in his position I would have probably burned my had too.

I decided to put the book back on the shelf and sit back down next to Hopper, and I’m glad I did so.

As soon after I’d discarded to book the double doors opened again to reveal a woman and her butler.

The woman looked about the same age as my chaperone, but was a little shorter then him. Her hair had been tied back into a sad bun, one to match her demeanor. 

“Thank you for waiting.” The lady mumbled in an even more unsure voice then I thought she’d have. “I’m Ashley.. Ashley Hilfe..” she finished, though it sounded more of a question then a name.

”J. Hopper,” Hopper said, quickly getting to his feet and out stretching a hand. “Don’t mind my confusion, but I was told my client was a man.”

“I’m not a man.” Ashley Hilfe said with a frown.

”I can see that..” Hopper laughed awkwardly.

The room suddenly got extremely uncomfortable due to Hopper’s remarks.

”It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Hilfe.” I said quickly to break the tension.

Hopper glaired at me, but Ashley Hilfe offered me a breif smile and her hand.

”Charming girl you have Hopper.” She offered warmly, but then paused.

”What does the J stand for?” She finally questioned.

”Jobs like my own are quite hard to achieve these days, so I hope you won’t mind my apprentice here. She’s leaning to become just as good as myself.” Hopper said as he handed Ashley Hilfe a worn envelope.

The lady hastily took the paper and slowly began to tear into it, lowering herself down into a chair as she did so.

Even with the dim lighting in the room, I could see that she had a unsettling frown on her face.

”I suppose this will do..” She mumbled, and placed the paper down on to a table beside her.

Hopper and I shifted uncomfortably as the room fell unnaturally silent.

The butler made an audible grumble and nudged a chair beside him.

And finally, breaking the silence, Ms. Hilfe shot up and spoke again, like an actress remembering a forgotten line.

”I’m in desperate need of your assistance,” She said a little to quickly.        “A.. priceless.. item has been stolen from this very estate, and I need it back.”

I watched as Hopper sighed and reached for a notepad in his pocket.

”First,” He said matter-of-fairly. “We need to know what this item is. Some sort of ring? A photo? Perhaps a vase?”

”A statue.” The woman practically gasped, but quickly spoke again to cover her mistake.

”A statue has gone missing from my house. It is made out of wood, and it’s abour the size of a milk bottle, and it’s black in color. The statue.. it’s been in my family for generations, and it’s worth quite a bit of money..”

”A great deal of money?” Hopper questioned. “When was it stolen?” 

The butler once again shifted, and but this time he spoke in a low voice I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve heard before.

”Ms. Hilfe hasn’t been in this room for a quite a while, so he wouldn’t know when the theif struck. As you can see,” The butler said as he pointed to a mantle. “The mantle has nothing on it. That is where this statue stood.”

And sure enough, the mantle had been completely empty.

 “Two days ago I came into here to find something and noticed that the statue had been missing. I’ve been a complete wreck ever since.”

Hopper carefully walked over to the over sized window in the room, yanking the oversized, magenta curtains a side and began to fiddle with the pane of glass.

He frowned as he reached the sliding point of the window, right where the latch was.

”It’s locked.” He noted.

Ms. Hilfe peered down in embarrassment.

”It’s always latched..” She replied meekly.

”Hmm..” Hopper crosses to the mantle where the statue apparently stood and leaned his head down to get a good look. 

There still had been nothing on it.

He slowly took two steps backwards and then staired up at the ceiling.

“Is there anything above this room?” Hopper questioned.

“A parlor, I believe.” Ms. Hilfe nodded her head.

Hopper finally turned back to where we all had been standing and straightened his posture proudly.

I have reason to believe the the burglar broke into your parlor,” Hopper said. “He or she obviously sawed a hole into the floor of the parlor and slipped into this very library, stealing your statue from this very mantle.” Hopper pointed to the empty mantle.

Everyone- including myself - peered up to the ceiling, which had been red, blank, and completely unharmed.

”Glue,” Hopper said. “Glue and plaster covered it up.”

Ms. Hilfe put her hand up to her head. “I know who stole it.” She said.

”Well, that doesn’t mean they didn’t cut through the ceiling.” Hopper mumbled.

Ignoring Hopper comment, I slowly crouched down to where the owner the mansion had been sitting.

”Who stole it?” I asked mindfully.

Ms. Hilfe smiles at me as she rose to her feet and walked to the window. She pointed out to a lighthouse Hopper and I had passed on our way here.

”The Wheeler family.” She said. “Their quite nice people, and I’ve watched their kid a few times, but they always said they’d steal that statue a few times. I had always assumed they’d been joking, but apparently I’d been wrong.”

”Why didn’t you call the police?” I questioned.

Ms. Hilfe stammered for a few seconds before Hopper butted in. 

“Because he called us.” He said a little too proudly. “Have no worry, ma’am, we will find that statue back to its rightful owner.

Ms. Hilfe gave Hopper a warm but saddening smile.

” I want nobody to know your working for me and no harm to go to the Wheelers. They’re very nice people and would hate to have harm come to them.”

It’s not common you see someone refer to people who’d supposedly stolen a priceless object of your nice people and hope for no harm to come to them, but Hopper nodded anyway and said “I understand.”

”Do you?” The woman demand. “Do you promise to return to statue to it’s rightful owners and be discreet about the Hilfe name?”

My chaperone waved his hand quickly, as if to say “You have my word.”

Ms. Hilfe then turned her gaze to me.

”And what about you, dear? Do you promise to be discreet and tell no one you are working for me?”

”Yes.” I said. “I promise to return the statue to you and be discreet about who hired us.”

”Ms. Hilfe hired  _me_.” Hopper said sternly. “You are just an apprentice learning from the best. Well, I believe we are done here, goodbye Ms. Hilfe and masked butler.”

”WAIT!” I said quickly. “Shouldn’t Ms. Hilfe tell us what the statue looks like first?” I asked.

Hopper glaired at be in annoyance. 

“I’m sorry, apparently my apprentice doesn’t want to pay attention today. Luckily, though, I remember the exact description. It’s the size of a milk bottle, and it’s black.” He said smuggly.

”But what is the statue of?” I pressed.

Ms. Hilfe took one step closer and gave us a each a dark look. “The Demogorgon.” She said. “It’s a mythical creature something like a flower and a man, except it’s appears to be much more slimy and disturbing.”

I couldn’t help but wonder to myself why someone would put something like that on a mantle, but quickly brushed it off as Hopper started to talk again.

”Thank you,” My chaperone said briskly. “I can promise you’ll be hearing from us again. We’ll just let ourselves out.”

”Thank you.” Ms. Hilfe said and took a long sigh as Hopper took the long Hallway out of the mansion.

As we left, I could see out of the corner of my eye that the Butler has followed us out to the edge of the lawn, presumably glairing at us from behind his mask.

I couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling of  recognition from the odd man.

I felt like I could stair back at the man for hours, and I wish I could, but instead Hopper started the engine of his cruiser and started to drive down the driveway, to which I quickly ran after and climbed into. I had barely shut the door by the time Hopper had started rolling down the road.

”This will be an easy case!” Hopper shouted with joy. “Very rarely does a client know who the criminal is. You’re brining me quite a bit of luck, kid.” 

“If Ms. Hilfe knew who the burglar was,” I asked. “Why didn’t she call the police?”

”That’s not important.” Hopper answered quickly. “What is important is how the Wheelers managed to break in through the ceiling.”

”How can we be sure they broke in through the ceiling?” I asked 

Hopper rolled his eyes as if I had been missing something completely obvious.

”The windows were latched, and there was no other way they could have gotten into the library.”

”We got in through a pair of double doors..” I mumbled, but Hopper shook his head and kept driving.

We passed a white cottage and then came to a stop infrint of the worn lighthouse that seemed to lean slightly to one side.

“Listen, El,” He said, climbing out of the car as he spoke. “We can’t just knock on the door and say we’re looking for thieves, we need to pretend, we need to blend in! We’re going to have to use a con, which means a bit trickery. And don’t tell me you already know what con means, ‘cause I don’t care. I have a case to solve and I don’t need your smart-alec comments. In fact, don’t say anything, you hear me kid?”

I heard Hopper, so I chose not to say anything.

He marched up to the door of the lighthouse and rang the doorbell 6 times.

”Do you always need to-“

”I said don’t say anything!” Hopper barked as the door swung open.

Behind the door stood a man in a bathrobe and slippers. The man had an un-even shave and seemed to have just woke up, and had been planning to stay in the bathrobe for much longer.

”Yes?” The man said with a yawn.

”Mr. Wheeler?” Hopper asked.

”That would be me.”

”You don’t know me,” My chaperone said a fad to cheerful voice. “But I’m a young man and this is my niece, and we are lighthouse enthusiasts. Can we come in and talk for a few minutes?”

Mr. Wheeler gave Hopper and I a puzzled glance.

I faked a smile to seem just as cheerful as Hopper seemed, but soon found it useless and stopped trying.

”I.. suppose..” The man said as he ushered Hopper and I into a room with a large, winding staircase.

The staircase undoubtedly led to the very top of the lighthouse, but to get there you’d have to step over the boy with a typewriter.

The boy looked to be about my age - 13- But his typewriter seemed to be alot older.

He pecked a few sentences into the machine and then stopped to peer up at me, bearing a smile.

His smile had been nice to look at, along with his shaggy black hair.

As he looked up from his typing, he eyes seem to fill with questions that she wanted me to answer.

”I was about to make some coffee,” Mr. Wheeler said as he gestured to a small kitchenette. “Would you care for some?”

Hopper shook his head. “No thank you, but I will and talk to you as the children play.” 

Mr. Wheeler shrugged and wandered back into the kitchen as Hopper mad a shooing motion at me.

It’s never fun when you told to ‘go play with’ someone you don’t know, but I climbed the stairs to where the boy had been sitting anyway.

”I’m Jane Ives, but you can call me El.” I said, sticking out my hand for the boy.

But instead of shaking my hand, he stopped typing and instead reached into his pocket and pulling out a card to give to me.

**Micheal Wheeler. The News**

”The News,” I read. “What’s the news, Michael?” 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” The boy paused. “And call me Mike. My mom called me Michael.”

I offered Mike a warm smile as I spoke again. 

“Alright. What’s the news, _Mike_?” I said, teasingly.

”Well, for starters I want to know who’s the man who knocked on the door? Is he really your uncle? Where did you come from? Why are you to so crazy about light houses? Why did he shoo you away? And where does ‘El’ come from in ‘Jane Ives?’”

 “My middle names Eleanor, you’re not the only one who’s.. parent.. called them by their original name.” I said, answering the last question first. “Are you a reporter?”

”Yes.” Mike replied. “I’m the only reporter left in Hawkins, Indiana. It’s in my blood. My dad was an editor, my sister was a photographer with one of her friends, and my mom was a writer. This lighthouse used to provide the towns finest news. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? It was called “Hawkins News”.”

”I can’t say I have.” I mumbled. “But I’m not from around here, either, so I wouldn’t know.” I quickly added.

”I’m not surprised.. Hawkins News has been out of business for years. Dad sleeps in all day, Nancy took an interest in chemistry and decided to help in the failing Ink industry, so she went to live with the owners of Ink inc., and mom took baby Holly into the city, forgetting her only son along the way.” Mike sighed and shifted uncomfortably.

”But enough about my problems, tell about yours.” He said eagerly.

”What?” I questioned. 

“What’s happening, El? Tell me what’s going on.”

I watched as Mike placed his fingers down into they typewriter keys, ready to write down every word I said.

 “You know everything that’s going on in this town, don’t you?” I said.

”Every good reporter does,” Mike smiled.

”You’ve got to be kidding.”

”I prefer not to report fake news, El. Tell me what’s going on and perhaps I could help.”

I sighed as I peered into his kind eyes. 

They too had been quite interesting. It had been almost like a coffee-with-too-much-milk color, like someone had washed them out or made him cry for a very, very long time.

”Can I tell you something without you writing it down?” I questioned.

Mike hastily moved his hands away from the typewriter and stared at me with a odd, confused look.

”You mean, keep this conversation off record?”

I nodded my head in agreement.

Mike carfully reached under his typewriter and clicked a button that made the entire thing collapse into a small, clunky suitcase.

”What is it?” He asked after he finished.

I peered down the stairs and up to make sure nobody was listening in.

”I’m trying to solve a mystery.” I finally spoke. “It’s about the Demogorgon.”

Mike gave me an even more puzzled look then before.

”The mythical creature?” He asked

”No, a statue of it.”

I watched as Mike’s face curled into a smile.

”That thing?” He asked with a laugh. “Come on up.”

He stood up and quickly raced up the stairs, his shoes clunking against the wooden steps as he went.

I followed him up a few curves to a large room with height ceilings and junk everywhere.

Inside had been a few dusty machines topped with cobwebs strewn about, strange levers and odd buttons galore.

There had also been tabled with piles of paper and bottles of ink stacked on and below it. You could tell it had been years since this room had been used.

”This is the news room.” Mike said, gesturing to the space surrounding us.

”Stories would be types in her without rest, day and night. We’d develop photos taken by the Byers, a friend out ours, and print the stories all in the same day. After we’d printed enough, we’d then hang them out on the hawser to dry.” Mike said.

”Hawser?” I asked, to which Mike walked over to the window and opened it.

”Hawser.” He said again, pointing to a long, thick, cable that had reached all the way to the mansion I had just visited.

”It looks like it stretches all the way to the Hilfe mansion.” I said.

But instead of agreeing with me, Mike gave me an odd stare.

”The Wheelers and the Hilfes have been good friends for years,” Mike said. “ We’d collect water from their well our science and garden reporters would do research on their property. They had a white cottage we’d rent out, and we’d turn on our lanterns for their Badmiton and Boat parties.” Mike smiled as he thought about all the good times, but suddenly his face fell.

”Of course, that’s all over now.” He sighed.’’

”Why?” I asked.

”Not enough ink,” Mike said “There is only a few octopi left. Just like the ink, this town is fading. There’s a library, a police station, and a few other buildings open, but everything else is empty and a shadow of what it used to be. Hawkins News shut down, and 2/3 of the Ink inc. workers left for bigger, better things. The train passes through once a month, each time carrying more and more of our residents. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day Hawkins just.. disappeared.” 

I swore Mike sniffled a little before saying something again.

”Of course, you already knew that.”

I wanted to nod my head, but instead found myself asking a question I wish I could take back.

”Your mom didn’t leave out of boredom of reporting, she left because she wanted fresh, new news, didn’t she?” 

Mike nodded his head sadly. 

“Holly was to young to be contaminated by Hawkin’s emptiness, and wouldn’t mind a new town.”

”Well then when are you and your father joining your mother?” I asked.

Mike looked quite the it the window for a brief moment giving me an idea about who made him cry.

”I am what my mom would call ‘contaminated’. I believe that Hawkins can still be revived. She.. she doesn’t want contaminated things to ruin her new news business.”

We two stood uncomfortably as the air seems to thicken around us.

‘Damn, El, why do you have to ruin everything?’ I thought to myself.

”The Demogorgon.” I reminded the man in front of me.

”Oh, right, of course.” Mike said, moving over to table covered with a sheet.

”The Demogorgon had been the mascot of Hawkins News because of a rumor that said One of my ancestors slayed it. Stupid story, I know, but my family collected a bunch of Demogorgon stuff in their honor. Unfortunately, though, no one ever about it except-“

”El!” Hopper’s voice boomed from downstairs. “Time to go!”

”Just one minute!” I called back.

”Not one minute, NOW!” My chaperone answered.

But I didn’t leave right that minute. Instead, I waited as Mike pulled back the sheet to reveal a table full of Demogorgon merchandise nobody wanted.

Strewn across the table had been at least 3 Demogorgon plushies you would give to a child and a deck of cards with a Demogorgon head. There had been at lest 4 Demogorgon mugs for all the Demogorgon inspired drink someone would drink, and Demogorgon bowls for all your Demogorgon meals. Needed a napkin? There had been 10 packs of Demogorgon napkins to match Demogorgon Place mats. Demogorgon ash trays for your Demogorgon cigars, and Demogorgon candle holders with Demogorgon candles.

But only one thing caught my eye, and that was about the size of a bottle of milk and was black in color. 

It had the same face of all the other Demogorgon objects, but this one was much more valuable.

There, in the old news room of Hawkins News lighthouse sat the dusty, forgotten statue about the size of a milk bottle and black in color, of a mythical creature.

”JANE IVES!” Hopper yelled again, this time using my real name, but I took no note.

Instead I spoke to the statue.

”Hello.” I whispered. “What are you doing here?”

Mike looked at me and smiled.

”Looks like the mystery is solved,” He said with a smile.

Unfortunately, though, we couldn’t have been more wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the (probably) 3 people who return to my fic and want updates, I would like to apologize. When I first had this idea, I was so excited and wrote the first chapter all in a day (and a lot of crazy shit happened that day). I know that this really doesn’t have any relationships (I’m trying to stick to canon ATWQ relationships) and I promise that there will be some, you just need to stick with me. (Unfortunately, that soonest I can make a relationship is the next book, and even then half the duo doesn’t make their entrance until the end.. Oof..)
> 
> If there is anything I could do to make this story better, PLEASE tell me. I really want to make it to the end because I have big plans for it ( and I’m very excited for the “Shouldn’t you be in school?” portion because that book was an adventure on its own) but feel that I probably won’t make it past this section. (1/4)
> 
> Please?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd we’re back :-). I have finally climbed up from the depths of hell and have decided to write another chapter to this madness. I can’t say I’ll be able to post this frequently, and I should be studying for an English quiz, but the priorities are obvious here.
> 
> Firstly, I’d like to apologize for the delay in posting, my anxiety will forever be the death of me (not to mention my family is no help whatsoever,..) but I think I’m sane enough now, so welcome back *jazz hands*
> 
> Anyway, we get deeper into the “Hmm, the closest person to match this person’s personality is siblings with this person, who just happens to be this person... LeTs SpLiT tHe FaMiLy” rabbit hole (I.E Mike being Moxie while Nancy is Cleo Knight (was the obvious? I feel liked I just spoiled everything.)
> 
> We also get to meet everyone’s favorite Sub-librarian who I’m not even sure has the personality to be played by this person (Darn.). I can already see the hate I’ll get for writing a future event...
> 
> On another note, I finally read through the entire ASOUE series and found that I was not mentally prepared to face what lay at the end of The End. I also found myself questioning if such a small group could live/survive on an island they don’t know much about, all while caring for a new problem... (That’s just the tip of the iceberg, but I’ve tried to water it down to give the least amount of spoilers as possible, but damn there is *tea* that needs spilling)
> 
> *I’m not 100% sure if Mews is orange-brown, but I tried. I ended up asking 4 different people but because I can’t see the colors myself, so I might be completely wrong :((
> 
> And because I obviously don’t know when to stop writing notes, I’m happy to say I have finally gotten all the books in the ATWQ series (I was missing ‘Shouldn’t You Be In School’, my favorite book of the 4) and remembered just how much I adore a certain character who just happens to get in some trouble, thus fueling my desire to finish this story :)!!  
> (Whoop whoop future discouraged Amber coming in to say I have lost my desire. ThAnKs, ScHoOl)
> 
> And finally, because I have nothing to read currently (Other the The Librarian of Auschwitz, but that’s for school) so feel free to leave me your suggestions!  
> Enjoy!

“While you were busy  _flirting_ with that reporter boy,” Hopper said as he climbed into the cruiser. “I managed to solve the mystery. I have determined that the statue of the Demogorgon resides in that very lighthouse.”

 Hopper grinned proudly, almost as f he’s been expecting a compliment.

 But, instead of giving him what he wanted, I decided to state the facts that had become obvious during our visit.

 ”It is.” I said blankly. 

”Good to see where at an agreement.” Hopper said. “Mr. Wheeler told me he used to work in the newspaper business, but had stopped after his decline in luck. Sounds like the type of unfortunate event that someone who would steal a statue would have!”

My chaperone peered at me with a look that insisted I add on to his rambling, but all I could manage was a quiet “Ah.”

We drove passed the mansion towards the center of town, all while I realized that Mike was right: Hawkins really was an empty town.

Sure, Hawkins looked like it had once been bustling town, with shops, restaurants, and citizens, but now it looked like a musty old photograph.

Many of the town’s buildings had planks of wood covering cracked windows and signs.

In one of them, there had been a few couches strewn across its chipped tiles.

Another, filled with what seemed to be filled with various boxes.

But none of them seemed to have any people.

Infact, the only seemingly inhabited building had been the ink mill a few blocks ahead, and even that seemed to be fading.

The entire thought of it left a bad taste in my mouth.

I shuffled awkwardly in my seat as I peered through the window, catching my chaperone’s attention.

”No job, no wife, and only one kid?” Hopper said, braking the uneasy silence. “There’s no doubt Mr. Wheeler stole the statue. When I asked him if he had anything valuable in the house, he staired at me weirdly and said something about his wife. He’s obviously hiding something.”

”It’s in the print room.” I said. “It’s on a table covered with a sheet.”

”What?” Hopper gasped as he stopped the car unexpectedly. “How did you find it?”

“His son showed me,” I said. “And we weren’t  _flirting.”_

”Be sensible, El. How’s you get him to shoe you?” Hopper questioned.

”I asked him.” I shrugged.

Hooper gasped once more.

”He must be on to us, we need to act quickly, we can’t let anyone know why we’re here, we can’t let anyone know about the Volunteer-“

”I’m prettt sure Mike doesn’t know about our mission. You looked at the map, Hawkins doesn’t have any safe houses. We’re fine.” I interrupted.

”We still must be carful. When is the closest time that we can steal it?” He questioned.

I frowned as I peered back at Hopper.

”How can we be sure the Wheelers stole the statue?” I responded instead of providing an answer.

”Don’t be a numbskull, El. Mrs. Hilfe told us it had been on her mantle up until a few days ago.”

”Mike said it had belonged to his family for a while. It was even the mascot for his family’s newspaper, Hawkins’ News. We’ll need to investigate further.” I said. 

“No, we don’t,” Hopper said firmly. “I happen to believe a nice woman over a 12 year old little boy, particularly one who flirts with my apprentice the first day they meet and doesn’t even go by his full name.”

I felt my face reden as Hopper spoke, and quickly changed the subject.

”What does the J stand for?”

”Just do what I say and stop talking.” He said with a shake of his head and pulled the car to a stop.

I looked around to see that were we had stopped hadn’t been much different from the town surrounding it.

This one had plants growing in more directions then I could count, and a crack in the middle of the glass window.

There had been at least 3 different types of nests decorating the room, and the chipping paint that needed a major touch-up:

But the thing that thing that stuck out most was the sign declaring the buildings name. Right in the center of the building sat the words ‘ **Claudia and Marks’s Motel’** except the name Mark had been crossed out with some black paint and replaced with the word ‘Son’, which had also been crossed out and replaced with the name ‘Mews’. 

Just the sign alone made you wonder how many people this owner had partnered with before changing the sign.

“This will be our headquarters while we stay in Hawkins,” Hopper said as approached the building. “This is our lodgings and our nerve center and our home office and our command post. This will be our home. Now carry the suitcases, El, while I go ask the receptionist where I can get some scotch.”

I sighed as I hastily grabbed the suitcases from my apprentice’s hands, taking in everything he’d just said while doing so.

 Just around the corner I could see a worn down sign connected to a restaurant reading ‘Harrington’s’, and  further down was a musty looking vehicle advertising some sort of taxi business.

In the other direction, there was a large building with 2 grey pillars on either sides of the door, and next door was a library that seemed little more then that.

I winced as I felt the uneasy feeling of hunger strike again, but briefly wondered if it really was hunger.

Everything had just felt so empty lately, that the more I stood there the more I wondered if it was my stomach calling to be filled.

I frowned as I looked down at the two suitcases beside me.

The two suitcases that would seal my destiny if I let them.

’By doing what Hopper says and bringing the objects that signify that I will stay in Hawkins for as long as it takes to solve this mystery, I am letting not only myself down. But  _her_ as well.’

’I’m letting possibly the only person I can trust down, and possibly putting her in more danger than she could ever imagine.’

I carefully looked from suitcase to suit case, taking in every detail with every glance.

’But if I run..’

I let go of the handles and peered down at my own hands.

’If I run, I will be able to make sure nothing bad happens to her, nothing bad happens to-‘

“ _Jane!”_ My chaperone’s voice boomed from the steps of the motel.

Crusring myself, I quickly grabbed the suitcases again and rang up the stairs and placing them down in the lobby upon arrival.

The lobby had a complicated smell, like hundreds of people were in it, but there had only been two other people besides myself.

In the middle, there was a small sofa with some sort of blanket draped on top of it. 

Next to that, an even smaller end table.

Ome the little end table sat a large bowl filled to the brim with peanuts, but they all seemed to have some sort dusty coating on top.

There was a small booth on the corner, presumably for a phone, except it had been in use by a tall man where a fedora whom I hadn’t particularly notice before.

I suppose deep down I wish he would move out of the way and let me use the phone.

But I didn’t say anything.

Next there was a large reception desk where Hopper had wondered over to talk to a lady wearing some sort of cat-print shirt. Next to them, a fat sleeping cat with their own little name plate reading ‘Mews’.

I snickered at the thought of a cat co-owning a motel instead of someone such as ‘Mark’, or ‘Son’.

I quietly walked over to the cat, carful not to wake it.

The cat was an pretty orange-brown* color with stripe of white lining his fat belly.

I sighed as the cat shot up, probably over some distant noise, but immediately lost interest and layed back down.

”You have it better then I do..” I mumbled, carefully petting the sleepy cat.

”Stop dwadling, El.” Hopper said from the other end of the desk.

I grumbled as I dragged the two suitcases over to Hopper, who had been handed 2 keys by the receptionist.

”Welcome to Claudia and Mew’s, dear.” The lady, presumably Claudia, smiled. “I’m sure you and Dustin would have gotten along just fine, the two of you.”

Claudia gasped a little before frowning a little.

”At least, you would have. See, after the disappearance of his father, I just didn’t find Hawkins safe anymore.. yes, he went to go live with his uncles on the far side of town.” She sniffed. “But I’m sure you’ll meet him eventually. After all, everything does end up in this town eventually.”

”I suppose everything is eventual, yes. I’m very excited for the day I get to meet your son, and I feel we will get along quite well.” I said comfortingly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I better get to my room before my... Father... gets angry. It was a pleasure making your acquaintance.”

I waited a few seconds, waiting for a response that would never come. Instead, the lady just smiled a waved before busying herself with a stack of papers.

I frowned after turning away to find Hopper.

‘Such simple lives. There are other ways to protect your child without sending him deeper into the danger.’

I soon found myself in front of a large winding staircase with two giant suitcases.

And, of course, without a clue of where my room was.

”Great.” I mumbled to myself.

***

“Look who finally made it.” Hopper said as he opened the Far East Suite door.

”You didn’t exactly tell me where you were going.” I quickly shot back, dragging the two suitcases behind me as I spoke.

”Well if you weren’t to busy petting cats and talking to receptionist, you would have known where we were staying.” My chaperone grumbled.

But I didn’t respond. Instead, I just brushed pass him to get a better look of the room, if you would call it that.

Inside this room was one of the most minimalistic decorations possible.

Most of the room had been taken up by two beds, one bigger then the other.

In-between then sat a small nightstand with an even smaller lamp, which had been providing all the light in this very dark room.

As for the rest of the room, there had been a small notch where the bathroom sat in one corner, and 2-chaired table topped with some sort of heating plate. Above that, a small painting of a girl holding a dog with a bandaged paw, both sad.

”We’re sharing a room?” I asked, turning to Hopper.

”Don’t be dumb, El,” My chaperone mumbled. “We can change our clothes in the bathroom. Now, slide your suitcase under the bed and go play in the lobby or something. The receptionist told me where I could get some decent vodka and I plan to drink the night away while I think about how we can get that statue.”

“People don’t usually think straight under the influence..” I mumbled 

”What?” He growled.

”There’s a hawser.” I said quickly. “It runs from the lighthouse to the Hilfe mansion.”

”Hawser?”

”Think a sturdier clothesline made out of cable.” I continued.

”I knew that..” Hopper said sourly.

”Really?” I said smuggly. “‘Cause I had to flirt it out of a little boy.”

Hopper flopped onto the large bed with a sigh and hastily rubbed his hands across his unshaven face.

”Let me drink, El.” He finally said. “And don’t be late. We’ll probably be dining late tonight.”

”Later the what?” I asked.

”Later than usual”

”We’ve never dined together.”

” _Jane._ ”

I huffed at the use of my real name, swiftly pushing my suitcase under the bed and trotting our the door.

And soon after that, I found myself walking down the sidewalk with a handful of dusty peanuts.

Peering side to side, I shuffled uncomfortably

I didn’t exactly know where I was going.

***

“It looks like a statue, but not a statue. It’s worn down from erosion, and maybe fire.. Or maybe not?” I said, now standing in front of two worn down buildings.

After finally deciding it would take me awhile to learn Hawkin’s layout, I had decided I’d go to the sad excuse of a library I’d seen earlier.

Next to it, a giant building with heavily defeated columns. 

On top of that building, though, was a worn down plaque reading “Hawkins’ City Hall”, But was badly covered so it read ‘Police Station’. Somehow, Claudia and Mew’s cover-up was better.

I sighed as I walked away from the statue and up the library steps, making what I believe to have been a sensible choice.

The interior was quite underwhelming, just like many of the other buildings I’d been in recently. 

It was all one large room, with many shelves to line the walls and all in between. There was a small table in one corner and a check out desk in the other, but nothing else.

Actually, I take that back, there was one on the one the shelves saying “Learning is fun!”, and a cutesy little origami bird, but nothing else.

And, well, and Librarian who was swatting a couple of moths.

I slowly walked over the her, grabbing a few books of interest in the way.

Upon arrival, though, is found that this person was a lot younger than what you usually think librarians are.

 “Excuse me?” I said quitely so only the girl in front of me could hear.

The Librarian’s head shot up, apparently not noting my arrival.

 “ **Jane** **?** ” She gasped.

 “You.. In didn’t tell you my name, specifically my nickname. Do I know you?” I questioned.

I watched as the librarian coughed uncomfortably and busying herself before talking again.

”Certainly not.. I’m Bilingual! It’s how we say.. Hello?” She said, though it sounded more like a question.

”Uhhu..” I said, trying to sound as genuine as I could muster. “Well, it’s always nice to meet someone interested in learning multiple languages, though personally I prefer the classic Français. But that’s not the point. Are you the librarian of this establishment?”

”Sort of.. Robin the Sub-Librarian, at your service!” She expressed proudly.

”Sub?”

”It’s a rotating position, though I don’t know why they asked me.. I don’t know anything about library science, or books for that matter. I’m actually more into animal science, though I suppose that you read books in the section. But either way, I probably don’t belong here. I actually may have been switched with my brother. Gosh, I haven’t seen him in years! I wonder what’s he’s up too.. but theirs also the triplets.. Quagmires, maybe? No, only the cartography kid was volunteering.. maybe it was the other ones? They owned a hotel? I think it was maybe Dewy? Something French, I think.. Anyway, Dewy on the other hand-“ Robin mumbled, quickly cutting herself off.

”That is, with my education. It’s.. interesting.. but yes, I’m technically the librarian. Hawkins can’t afford a full time librarian, so the request volunteers like myself to fill in.” 

“How long have you been working here?” I questioned to stop her mindless chatter.

”Why, since I replaced the other!” She smiled. “How can I be of assistance?”

”I’m looking to learn about Hawkin’s local legends.” I said.

”Becky Sevi is probably the most popular actress in Hawkin’s. Though, if you ask me she’s hiding something. I mean, Sevi is something you call year sevens when you’re in year 8, not a last name!” She said sourly. “But, if you insist on reading her story, I’m sure there’s a book about her somewhere in here in the Theater section.”

”Not that kind of legend.” I said “I mean like stories adults tell children so they’ll go to bed. Specifically the Demogorgon.”

Robin’s vibrant smile fell a little before speaking again.

”Really? Doesn’t that seem a little.. yah know.. Boring? I’ve been in this town for awhile, and even I don’t find it interesting. Besides, you’re what, Thirteem? You should be reading about things like the cute little elfs and ponies, not some boring legends.” She said, moving from behind her desk.

”No, legends are good.” 

Robin sighed and patted my hand a little, walking away and gestureing for me to follow.

”Over her we have our Mythology section.” She said, stopping at a shelf in the middle of the room. “There’s also some good book on Oceanograph and Zoology if you’d like to learn about real animals, as well as a book all about Mycology. Say, I used to know someone who really liked Mycology.. though she may have faced a few misfortunes since the last time we’ve met.. I should probably call her.” She said a little uncomfortably. “But do any of those books sound interesting?”

”Not really, but thank you.” I said.

”One never knows, dear. They say that in every library there is a single book that can answer the question that burns like a fire in the mind.”

”Then I suppose the fire will have to burn a little longer.” I responded.

”Very well then. Would you like anymore help, or would you like to browse on your own?” Robin asked.

”Browse on my own, please.” I responded sweetly.

Robin smiled and walked away with a bounce in each step without another word.

 ‘She wouldn’t last a day in the organization.’ I thought to myself with a smile. ‘She’s way to talkative, she’d expose all our secrets.’

The Mythological section has numerous books that seems interesting, and only one that was helpful.

Sadly, it was not one of the ones that seemed interesting.

I found a table in a far corner where I could read Hawkins: _Myths Beyond the Legends_ without being disturbed.

‘According to chapter 4, The Demogorgon was some sort of 1/3 Man, 1/3 Flower, and 1/3 slimeish substance creature.’ 

‘It had a great appetite for hunting humans, but would only do so in its native home, dubbed ‘The Upsidedown’ by many of the locals. It supposedly eats its victims while, transporting them to such dimension, which is said to be an exact copy of our world.’

_‘And once it spots you, there is almost no chance of escape_.’

‘There is very few ways to sense wherd it is, but locals seem to believe one can expect its arrival to be paired with obnoxious flickering of any lights available.’

 “In the olden days, many believed that whenever someone where to slip and begin to bleed, The Demogorgon’s supposed call, that one would have to hit the gong by the lighthouse to signal the dawning masks to hide everyone’s identity. This was to hopefully hide the identity of the injured individual.” I read aloud to myself.

‘But as time went on, the gong was removed and replaced with other techniques. Horns, drums, and now a bell belonging to Hawkins’ most aristocratic school. The only part that remains of the rumors in the usage of masks.’

While the book did offer enlightening information on the reason for the masks, it had no information on the one thing I had been looking for: The Statue. So, instead of searching any further, I stopped readin about The Demogorgon and instead about Hawkin’s Whiches, people whose blood was supposedly replaced with ink. 

‘I wonder what they kept in their pens.’

I read for quite awhile before becoming distracted by what sounded like a rock being thrown against the wall, just above my head.

I looked up to see that it had, in fact, been a rock thrown just above my head.

It would have been nice to think of something witty to say, but instead I said something that almost anyone in my position would say.

”Hey!” I cried.

”Hey!” Repeated a mocking voice, belonging to a boy about my age who had stuck his head out from behind a book shelf. 

“You should be more carful, that could have hit me.” I growled.

But instead of an apology, the boy rolled his eyes and cuddled with the hem of his shirt.

”I’m  _trying_ to get better.” I said, walking closer to where I sat. 

He seemed to be trying to tower over me, but he was too short and ended up just being eye level from where I was sitting.

”I can’t be expected to hit my target every time.” He snarled.

”That’s your idea of fun?” I shot back. “Throwing rocks at decent people who are trying to get some decent work done?”

”I prefer birds.” He said defensively. “But there aren’t very many birds around here anymore!”

”I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to be frolicking with a nice boy like you.” I said sarcastically.

”Then hold still.” He huffed, taking another rock from his pocket. “Let’s see if I can hit you from here.”

”Troy!” Robin gasped, running up from out of nowhere and grasping the rock from his outstretched arm. “You have terrorized our locals for the last time. As sub-librarian of this fine establishment, I here by forbid you from  _ever_ stepping foot in here again!”

 ”But this is a public library!” Troy argued. 

”And you, young man, are a public nuisance.” She responded. “ ** _Out_**.”

“Hey, same time tomorrow, alright Robin?” He called from the doorway. 

” _ **Harrington**_!” Robin yelled while walking over to the injured wall.

”I’m sorry about him..” Robin said, frowning and rubbing her hand against the dented wall. “Troy Harrington isn’t exactly what you’d call a teacher’s pet. The only people who seem to believe so are his parents. His brother, on the other hand, doesn’t. Think he runs a diner these days.. I suppose I should call him as well.. Did you find what you were looking for?”

”Sort of..” I said. “Would it be possible for me to check out a book even though I don’t live in Hawkins?”

”Unfortunately, no.” Robin frowned. “But I do open the library early every day. I wouldn’t mind if you came in and read whenever you like. You’re probably to most well mannered person I’ve met in awhile.”

 ”Thank you.” I said. “But I do believe I should get going. I’m sure Hopper is probably getting worried about my where abouts.”

”Of course.” Robin smiled. “If you have a library card, you can request any book you’d like from the library you live closest to.”

”You mean, the library that I live closest to will send books here that I can check of?” I asked a little to excitedly.

”No,” Robin said. “But the books will be waiting for you when you return back to the city.” 

”But I don’t know when I’ll be back..”

Robin reached into her pocket and withdrew a small piece of paper and a panicked.

”You see, how it works is that you write down your name and the name of the book you want, and the person working at the research desk will see what book you’re requesting.” She hummed.

”So the person at the research desk sees what book I want.” 

“Yes.” Robin said, nodding her head.

”Or their apprentice?” 

”I suppose so..” Robin said. “So have you changed your mind?”

”Yes.” I said happily. “I would like to request a book from the Fourier Branch.”

Robin quickly jotted down her notes before pausing and peering up at me.

”The Fourier Branch? I feel like I know someone who was supposed to do something there.. do you know anyone by the name of-“

”The book title?” I quickly said, cutting her off in a hurry.

”Right. Your name?” She questioned.

”Jane, but I prefer to be called El. Say, don’t you already know my name?”

”Absolutely not, I’ve never seen you in my life. I’ve already explained I’m bilingual and was merely saying hello in case you spoke whatever language I was speaking instead of English. Author name?” Robin said quickly.

I was blank for a moment.

”Sorry.” I breathed.

”Sorry is the author’s name?” She questioned suspiciously.

”Indeed. I believe she’s Belgian. Or the book is translated from French.. lost in translation, am I right?” I laughed awkwardly.

”Sorry, of course..” Robin continued. “And What would the title be?”

I slowly took a sharp breath.

_I can do this_

 “But I Cannot Meet You at The Fountain.” I said shakily.

Robin peered up at me with such a blank expression, I couldn’t start to think what she was thinking.

”So your complete request is,” She said a bit uncertainly. “Sorry, But I Cannot Meet You at The Fountain.”

”That’s right,” and with that, Robin stared at me for a meet second before slowly writing my request down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Did anyone note one of the last names in the last chapter? It might have something to do with the plot.. maybe with a certain event in the Hilfe mansion.. hmm..
> 
> 2\. Random fact about myself; I have the same Little-Girl-Holding-Dog-With-Bandaged-Paw artwork hanging on my wall.
> 
> 3\. I really wanted to put the “Now I’m an adult and I’ve messed up majorly, I’m sorry (Mysterious her person), forgive me.” monologue, but couldn’t because El isn’t exactly an adult yet.. Oof
> 
> 4\. I really enjoyed writing Robin as bubbly as I did, (even if she potentially uncovered an unwanted secret) even if it doesn’t match Dashiell Qwerty’s cool, laid back personality. It’s just that I can totally see her being this way and couldn’t resist :’)!!!
> 
> 5\. Take a shot everytime I write and ASOUE reference.
> 
> 6\. I’m thinking about making an Instagram account for advertising things such as updates, surprises, and even some concept drawings for the story! (And if I get to it, I might even recreate the photos of a certain unlucky character at the beginning and end. I can’t promise they’ll be the best, but they’ll lay down the foundations :)!!) what do you guys think?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy welcome back to my misery :’)! 
> 
> We’re quickly approaching the halfway mark for the first book of 4, and to celebrate, I present you with the most meaningful gift possible: A chapter the might as well be filler! *confeti* Yeah, unfortunately that’s basically all it is. El gets tormented by Troy some more, we meet his parents, we find out El missed something, and then she goes somewhere else to get it. Summary. Boom. No need to write for 6 days, that’s basically it.
> 
> I also could have gotten this out yesterday, but this week has been VERY crazy and I was kind of.. really f***ing exhausted. (I’m not going to say the reason, but it’s kind of scary to hear an entire school with 500+ teens just be.. silent? No one spoke for 10 minuets straight and it was kind of terrifying. No crude jokes about what happened, no one laughed, just silence.)
> 
> All reality aside though, we do meet everyone’s favorite Taxi drivers whose father is too sick to do it himself (Not that he would, considering the character’s father). Too pure for this world, yet they still end up chasing a certain mur-
> 
> Whoops, sorry, network is bad here.. Where was I? Oh, right, the Bellerophon- I mean Byers Brothers. Yeah, we meet them. 
> 
> Hurray.
> 
> I’ve also determined that this is set post ASOUE, but no specific time after. There are plenty of references to the series, especially surrounding the later books (because those were my all time favorites, sorry not sorry.) so I’m going to say definitely some time after The End, But probably not more then 2-3 years after Voilet came of age and was able to get ahold of the Baudelaire Fortune. Was that last part important? Maybe, but I honestly don’t know. It really depends if you guys want the end person (I.E Hector and Widdershins) to be characters only from the It universe, or a mixture of It and ASOUE. (Or someone else? I’m just saying it because I’m betting 95% of the people who read this are coming for Stranger Things and It is the sister fandom, so I thought it would make sense.)
> 
> I would also like to say that yah girl finally got over her uncomfortableness surrounding The Miserable Mill and made a reference to it, so don’t say I never give you guys anything. (Don’t ask why the book/episode makes me uncomfortable, because I don’t know. All I know is that my vision is get progressively worse and nothing is being done to fix it because yah girl is absolutely terrified of Optometrists because of it.) Also, I’d take note of it if I were you, ‘cause you’ll probably not get another one for awhile, if at all but instead a million and one Grim Grotto references to replace it. Enjoy ;)
> 
> On a completely different note, does anyone know if in Tuck Everlasting does one of the Tucks got shot? I’m about 90% sure the yellow suit guy shoots one of them and that starts the entire thing with the pond and abduction of Winnie Foster, and I believe it happens in the 2002 movie, but I’ve been way to busy to watch it and it’s really bothering me. (Also, I haven’t watched/read it since year 4, back when the world wasn’t crumbling around me :’) )
> 
> I’m also running purely on less then 1 cup of water a day, the Tuck Everlasting soundtrack, cold medicine, insomnia, and my constant feeling of self doubt, so I have no confidence that this translated properly (I kind of.. forgot to write in English?? I got halfway through this when I realized I had been writing in German, so that sums up how my life is going at the moment.)
> 
> And lastly, I’m would like to apologize for the delay in this being posted. I wrote very little on Monday because I was COMPLETELY swamped with homework, and I’m considering myself lucky that I even got to eat dinner (it was a lot..) Sorry :(((  
> Enjoy?

 

* * *

I walked back to Claudia and Mews feeling a lot lighter than I had when I walked in.

The library had been what an associate of mine would call ‘Restorative’, a word used to describe activities that clear the mind and brain to make one happy.

Finally solving a problem that had been eating away at one’s life up until that point is restorative, as is receiving a large plate of eggo waffles after a particularly upsetting day.

This is why when I had been given the chance to reach my associate and inform her that I would not be able to go to the fountain, therefore saving her some trouble, I had felt extremely restorative.

And while my associate would be able to saver herself from an avoidable troubles, I would soon be the one to face misfortune.

In front of of the motel My chaperone and I would be be staying lay a beat up station wagon with a flashlight tapped to the top, representing some sort of Police car.

Beside the car, Two tall people in uniform, who had been talking to a very serious looking Hopper.

“ _El_.” He grimaced through a fake smile. “These two fine people are Officers Harrington.”

The two officers turned to look at me with a sneer.

 “My wife and I have questions for you.” The male Harrington said instead of “Hello.” Or “Nice to meet you.”.

 “Alex,” the woman Harrington growled. “You’re not supposed to say we’re  _married_ on the job. 

The first officer sighed as he ran his hand down his face. “Maria, we’re  _married_ no matter where we are.”

 “Don’t remind me.” His wife replied with an eye roll. “You already make my life miserable enough. Like this morning, when I told you to empty the dishwasher and you didn’t so I had to do it myself.”

 “Maria, we can talk about this later.”

 “Alex, I don’t want to talk about this later, I want to talk about it now.”

 “Don’t be passive aggressive, Maria.”

 “See, I should have listened to my mother when she told me not to marry you.”

 “Oh, shut up, she’s been dead for 15 years.”

 “Doesn’t make her any less right.”

I sighed as I realized that if I didn’t stop this now, it would go on for hours.

”You said you had some questions for me?” I said, cutting off the two adult’s arguing.

 “We’re the ones asking questions around here.” Maria Harrington snapped. “We’re the law here in Hawkins. We’re the ones who bring criminals to justice by putting them in a train that leads them to the city where their put on trial. That’s why whenever strangers suddenly move to our town we demand to know why exactly you’ve come to our very fine town.”

 “We  _really_ like ink.” Hopper said unconvincingly.

 “You told Mr. Wheeler you really like lighthouses?”

“We love everything.” He pushed.      

“But that doesn’t make any-“ Alex Harrington began.

 “What my chaperone means,” I said interrupting the adults. “Is that while we may be here in business, we will also be partaking in some of Hawkin’s many beauties. Why, just earlier had I been admiring the _exquisite_ sign dawned upon what I have reason to believe your shared police station.”

 “Why, Alex hung that sign himself. Bet you couldn’t even tell it used to be a lousy court.” Maria said proudly.

 “It’s true,” Alex said. “But that’s not the reason we’re here is to say that we hope that you won’t be visiting our only jail sail. We’d like to make it a point that just a few hours after your arrival did our stunning town face a crime.”

 “What happened?” I asked.

”A street light was vandalized.” Alex mumbled. “Somewhere around the library, someone shattered the lightbulb with a rock. Now, it’s too early to make assumptions, but I wouldn’t find it surprising if we could trace the crime to the two of you. We’re have you been for the last few hours?”

”In the library.” I said blankly:

”Can anyone verify this?”

”Robin, the library’s only librarian.”

”Why, she doesn’t count!” Maria scoffed. “I can’t find it in me to trust anyone with a personality that.. that.. Bubbly! You ask her a single question and she starts talking about random things!”

”And how she should call someone for her past, she does a lot of that.” Alex added, nodding along.

”With all do respect, I would like to make it a point that I deeply disagree with you.” I said. “A bubbly personality doesn’t mean one is untrustworthy. Why, Robin seemed extremely trustworthy, even if she does say a lot of things that are off topic. As for the people she needs to call, it just shows she cares. I’m sure she was going to call one of those people, but got interrupted by a young boy who threw a rock at me.”

”Oh?”

”Indeed.” I said politely. “I believe Robin said his name was Troy.”

Thee Officers Harrington’s faces turned from one of smug smiles to sneers in a matter of seconds.

”Our son Troy,” Maria said angrily. “Is a polite young man who wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a pathetic little girl.”

”El can do anything a male can do, if not better. You have no right to-“ Hopper interjected, But was quickly cut of by an angry Alex Harrington.

”My wife wasn’t done. Our son is polite and welcoming. In fact, he even came with us to welcome you two to Hawkins.” He said, gesturing to the station wagon.

For the first time, I saw Troy’s disturbing glare from inside the car, which quickly changed when the adults all peered down to a innocent smile.

”It’s quite nice to meet you  _Jane_.” He said, acting like he hadn’t tried to hit me with a rock only a little while before. “It’s always nice to meet people my own age, and I hope we will soon become best friends!”

”See?” Alex asked smuggly. “Our son Troy is a delightful boy.

”And handsome.” Maria added. “Lately he’s become extremely interested in local bird life.

”Why, I wouldn’t surprised if he grew up to be a astonishing scientist.” Alex added.

”Or doctor!” Maria said.

”A _brilliant_ doctor.”

”Of course I mean a brilliant doctor, Alex. You didn’t have to embarrass me like that.”

”You know I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

”Well, then why did you say that?”

”To correct you! You know I have OCD!”

”If you had OCD, the dishwasher would have been clean by now?”

”What does that even mean??”

”It means your a lying son of a b-“

”Excuse me,” I said, cutting off the bickering. “But if your done questioning Hopper and I, I would like to go back to my room.”

The Officers Harrington glared at me for interjecting, as if I had been the only arguing.

”Fine. But know that we’ll be keeping an eye on you too.” Maria said, pointing her finger at us.

 And with that, a little bickering over who would drive, and a slam of the car doors, the Harrington’s we’re off.

Hopper sighed as he turned to me.

”We haven’t even been her one day El,” He groaned. “And you’re already getting in trouble with the law. You cannot even start to process how disappointed I am in you.”  

“But I didn’t vandalize the street light..” I said.

”That’s not the point.” Hopper said, changing the topic. “We need to move tonight?”

”What?” I practically gasped. “Why? Is said I didn’t vandalize the street lamp!”

”Not the kind of move, El. Tonight we need to move to steal the statue, we’re not moving from Hawkins anytime soon. Not until the statue is back with its back with its rightful owner, at least.” He shot back.

”But, I think it is with its rightful owner..” I mumbled. “I did some research at the library and found nothing about the Hilfes owning the statue, or the statue it’s self. I feel like we should investigate some more, and then see if that statue really belong to Ms. Hilfe. Besides, when Mike showed me it, the statue had quite a bit of dust on it, almost as if it hadn’t been moved in years.”

”Don’t be stupid, El. Anyone can pour dust on anything to make it look old. And before you spat more nonsense, I’ve already taken care of everything.” Hopper hummed. “I called Ms. Hilfe- Well, more like her butler- this afternoon and arranged a time that we would put back the statue?” 

“What?” I gasped. “But how?”

Hopper’s face spread into a disturbing, cheeky smile.

”By hawser, of course.” He said. “See, we’re going to break into the lighthouse, steal the statue, climb out the window and onto the hawser, and then through the Hilfe’s mansions window where we will then escape, unnoticed. Boom, case closed, back to the city where you can help you partner. What was her name? It was something like K-“

”But if we steal this statue from the Wheelers.. are we not doing exactly we’re supposed to be preventing?” I asked, interrupting my chaperone.

Hopper merely laughed at my question and patted my head.

”Get those stupid ideas out of your head, El! Look, all you have to do is break into the lighthouse sometime tonight and prop the door open and lead me to where the statue is. And after we’re done returning the statue, we need to leave and quick. We have people watching us.” His voice turned a little more serious.

”What?” I gasped. “Do you mean the Harrington’s? Unless it’s the older Harrington kid, the one who split off from his family’s madness..”

Hopper shook his head. 

“I mean someone from our organization, El. It’s something that they always do when a chaperone trains lower ranks, even if the only supervisor happens to be at the rank of a trainee. They’re there to make sure an apprentice isn’t left alone to do the training alone, especially because of what happened to J, poor guy. Got killed in a town basically run by crows. And his apprentice! Imagine, being sent to investigate a lumber mill with a villainous Optometrist.” He said, shaking his head slowly.  “But enough about those who’ve failed our organization, you should get going, find a way to get into the lighthouse.”

“What about dinner?” I asked anxiously.

“Already ate.”

”What about my dinner?” I pressed.

Hopper frowned at me as he walked up the motel’s worn steps.

“Not my problem.” He mumbled.

I watched Hopper walk into Claudia and Mews, leaving me even more hungry and confused that when I started.

”Well.” I said aloud. 

I waited a little while, making sure I gave time for Hopper to reach our room, before walking into the motel myself, wonder who in the god forsaken town could be watching my chaperone and I.

Claudia Henderson had been sitting next to a sleeping Mews, petting the pretty kitty and smiling at the purs of enjoyment.

”Good evening, Ms. Hopper.” The lady purred from her position.

”More or less.” I responded, frowning at the use of my chaperone’s last name as I walked over to a hopefully empty phone booth.

But, of course, there hadn’t been.

Instead, a tall, black haired woman had been inside, talking to someone about some learning campaign and cantaloupes.

”Is there anymore telephones near by?” I asked Claudia.

Claudia stopped petting her beloved cat for a second and frowned bitterly.

”Regrettably, no.” She finally responded.

”How possible would it be for you to give me a ride somewhere?”

”Very little..” She said, shaking her head. “I’m waiting for my son. His uncles were going to bring him over for a visit today, before the school season starts. Say, you’re still at the age where you need schooling. Will you be attending any of them in Hawkins?”

I quickly shook my head.

”There’s no need for an education when you’ve been forced to learn everything in the first few years of your life.” And with that, I had walked right back out of the motel doors and on to Hawkins empty streets back to where I thought I saw the sad excuse of a taxi.

***

”Uh.. Excuse me?” I said as I tapped the taxis window, startling the two passengers inside.

”Sorry, I didn’t see you coming.. How can we help you? Do you need a taxi?” The older one of the two, probably about 17, asked as he rolled down the window.

“Yes? I don’t have much money, though. I just recently moved here with my chaperone and haven’t had the chance to get money..”

The smaller boy quickly shook his head.

“Oh, no! With Hawkin’s crumbling infrastructure and lack of well paying jobs, we just work off of tips.”

”Then I suppose yes, I do kind of need a ride and it’s not out of your way.” I said carfully.

”We rarely get any passengers at this time, so you’ll be fine.” He said, reaching behind him and opening the door. 

I hastily climbed into the rickety vehicle and moved in, closing the door behind me

 “I, uh, suppose we should introduce ourselves..” the younger boy mumbled. “My name is Will Byers, and this is my brother, Jonathan. We.. We don’t usually drive the taxi, our mom does, but she was really busy tonight so she asked us.”

I nodded my head, to which Will gave me a glance which translated to ‘Hey, what’s your name?’”

”My name.. it’s El, my name is El.” I mumbled. “El Ives, El Hopper, Jane Ives, I’ve heard it all recently.”

Will looked strangely at his brother, and then back at me, quickly turning his confused expression into a fake-happy one.

”Okay, El.. El is good right? You seemed to favor El, so I’ll call you El.. unless you want to be called Jane, which is just as pretty, not that you’re not already pretty, you are it’s just-“ 

“What my brother is trying to ask,” Jonathan said sharply, glairing at Will. “Is ‘Where shall we take you?’”

I smiled a little as Will’s face blushed from embarrassment.

”Do you know the light house, over by where the quarry used to be?” I asked.

Jonathan thought about it for a moment before shifting the car into drive.

”The Wheelers? Sure. They used to run the news paper.. I would take the photos, and Will would draw the comics. We really had a thing going.” 

I watched Jonathan’s face fall a little at the mention of his old job.

”Of course, that was a few years ago. Now it’s nothing but hoping for a chance of a good job without and education, and occasionally driving for my over worked mother.”

”You don’t go to school? Aren’t you still young enough too?” I asked carfully.

Will shook his head and peered down at his lap.

”No. Neither of us do. Hawkins has 2 school, both of which are boarding. Our mom can’t afford it.. so we just stay here.” Will said sadly. “But never mind our troubles, why are you here, El? And don’t tell me you came her by choice, because no one ever moved to Hawkins just ‘cause.”

”Oh, you don’t want to here my reasons.. it’s very boring. Nothing compared to what kind of adventures you two have.” I mumbled awkwardly.

”Eh, it helps pass the time.” Jonathan said, steering the car left. “And don’t get that idea of adventure in your head, because it’s not true. We mostly pick up cross dressers, drunks, and people heading out of this god forsaken town.”

”You’re actually the most interesting person we’ve seen a while. If the newspaper was still in print, I wouldn’t doubt that you’d make the head lines. ‘ _ **Mysterious girl arrives suddenly, no one knows why**_ ’” Will said proudly, gesturing his hands as if he were reading the headline.

I shuffled self-consciously in my seat as I avoided the what my mind was tricking me into thinking was the Byers’s disapproving glances.

”I don’t really like talking about why I’m here..” I said sadly. “But if you must know, it’s because my mother died in a rupturing fire. Her entire state burned to the ground..”

This did exactly what I hoped it would do;  _Get them to change the topic_. 

While I had always hated to lie, and I winced at the punch my one day associate to-be received, it really had been the only way I could get them off my back.

”But that’s besides the point. I’m here, and that’s that. Say, did you or your mom ever drive Ashley Hilfe anywhere?” I asked, changing the topic.

Jonathan shook his head.

”Not that my I know of. She had her own fancy car she would ride around town.”

”Isn’t she still in town?” I asked.

”If she is, she would have just come back within the past week. Also, we’re here.” Jonathan added unlocking the car door.

I quickly opened the door and climbed out, wanting to get to the lighthouse as soon as possible.

Will followed did the same.

”Do you want us to stick around until your done? It would be of no trouble.” He asked.

”No, thank you.” I said.

”Hey, it’s no problem. I just hope you know what you’re doing.” Jonathan said, sticking his head out the car window. “How about a tip?”

”Here’s a tip,” I said, thinking about it for a second. “Next time you go to the library, pick up a book about 3 unfortunate orphans, it’s a biography about people I’m working with. Good kids.”

”Do you have the author name?” Will asked.

”Somthing to do with a sour fruit. Limes, maybe?”

”We’ll look into it. Until later, El.”

And with that, the two Byers brothers drove away, leaving me in front of the worn-down lighthouse yet again.

I waited a few seconds, long enough that I couldn’t hear the car engine, before trotting up the steps and knocking on the  very fancy door.

And it opened.

 “El Ives.” Croaked Mike Wheeler.

”What’s the news, Mike?” I asked, though I didn’t want an answer.

”You tell me, El. You’re the one showing up at my door at 9 pm, the one who looks like you haven’t slept since yesterday, and the one who smells like a school librarian. So you tell me, El, what _is_ the news?”

I squinted at the long, retracing hawser stretching from the Wheeler lighthouse to the Hilfe mansion, angling down hill.

 ‘ _Fuck it._ ’ I thought, and turned back to Mike.

”I was hoping I could extend my invitation into your home.” I said horsley.

“Oh?” He asked with a smile.

”Indeed. I’m here to help with the burglary that will be at about 12 am tomorrow in your very home.” I said, and walked passed Mike into the lighthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.Who do you think the person who definitely isn’t sent by VFD (Because there’s no top secret-organization that drags children out of their windows and forces them to go through years of training and eventually tattoos their insignia onto their left ankle in this story *cough*) to watch over everyone’s favorite crime.. solving? duo? Let me know!
> 
> 2\. The entire thing about El’s mom dying due to a house fire? Probably true, just switch Mom for Dad (El’s mom is an active VFD in this universe, and isn’t exactly apart of the fire-fighting side. This may not come up during the series, but it’s now canon.) 
> 
> 3\. Please note that in during the taxi scene, when Will in fumbling about El’s name, I did not mean for this to be taken romantically. As time goes on, you will see that while Milleven is hinted to, the only relationship truly mentioned is the one between Cleo Knight and Jake Hix. I understand this isn’t to most ideal thing, as the Stranger Things fandom seems to run on relationships, but keep in mind that the ATWQ fandom was originally aimed towards younger audiences, meaning relationships weren’t the number one priority, and as an author I’m trying to stay as true to the original plot as possible.
> 
> If you don’t like that, I’m sorry :/. You can comment about it, threaten me, (Why?? Why is that an answer??) or just stop reading this story, but I most likely won’t change it without a major reason to do so. (I.E Daniel Handler releases a 2nd spin-off stating that there had been more relationships then originally stated in the books.) If the lack of relationships truly does bother you, and you do want to continue reading this series, please feel free to message me on Instagram at wrongquestions_rightresponses.
> 
> Danke schön :’)  
> -Amber


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***  
> Guys we are officially half way through the first book :’)!!! I’m super excited and your guys support has meant so much to me (especially the person whose name I can’t remember who commented on chapter 4.. you absolutely made my day :)!!)
> 
> We also finally get to the scene that leads us to meet a certain desperate coffee drinker. Fun fact: This person was originally going to be portrayed by Jonathan, but I quickly changed it to be someone else who doesn’t show up/isn’t mentioned until season 2 in Stranger Things. Fitting.
> 
> I’m not going to lie, this chapter was exhausting to write, and I even thought of not uploading it at all. I don’t know if it’s because of my school life raining into my personal life, or the constant fear of life and university (which isn’t anything new. I’ve feared adulthood since middle school..), but I’m just happy I was able to put this out :’).
> 
> On a completely different note, whatever happened to Babs (Hostile Hospital)? In the books she was only seen as a speaker and just disappeared (presumably got killed) but what about in the show?? She was separated from Violet after their attempt to dress up as doctors and escape, but then just came back when the hospital was set aflame?? I was watching it with my brother and relized it was never really explained, and it really bugs me because I really liked her and she never came back (Unless she’s going to come back in Penultimate Peril??)
> 
> Anyway, for those who don’t know, with a telegram instead of period (.), the word STOP is used, and when ending a message you use END MESSAGE. (That’s why during the telegram scene, you’ll see the phrases mentioned above)
> 
> That’s all. Enjoy?

Well that’s a very kind invitation, El.” Mike smiled. “Though does it really count as burglary if the item isn’t exactly cared for by its owner?”

”What?” I asked, closing the door behind me.

”Oh, don’t act like you don’t know.” Mike teased. “You’re here to steal the statue, right?  _I don’t care_.”

”How did you know?”

Mike smiled as he walked deeper into the lighthouse to find his typewriter, which had been sitting on the stairway like it had been earlier.

Mike swiftly snatched up the machinery and tore of the paper presumably for earlier in the day, when we had first met.

”A stranger knocked on my door,” he said, scanning the paper. “With an older man probably 30-40 years older. The stranger asked to see a certain statue supposedly in the Wheeler’s position.”

Mike tossed the paper aside and glanced back up at me.

”And here you are, talking about thr burglary of such statue. So?” 

I sheepishly peered down at my shoes to avoid eye contact.

”You’re.. you’re a good journalist.” I mumbled sheepishly.

”Thank you, But I’m not interested in your flattery. Are you here to steal The Demogorgon or not?” Mike asked, rolling out a new sheet for the type writer.

”Yes..” I sighed. “Do you mind?”

I watched as Mike smiled an evil, treacherous smile that a child would give their sibling before throwing a chud of mud at them.

”Not at all..” he said, placing his hands in a typing position on his typewriter. “But I do think it’s time we learn a little bit more about each other. Because we both know someone here isn’t telling the other person everything about themselves and why they’re here.”

I blushed awkwardly as Mike called me out.

”Are you writing this for the news?” I stuttered. “‘Cause I thought it had been out of business for years.”

”It’s called practice, El.” He hummed. “For when I finally leave this town.”

”For when you join your mom?” I laughed awkwardly.

But instead of joining me, Mike continued to stare.

”El, my mom is never coming. She left my father, she left my sister, and she left me. We’ve gone over this.” Mike paused. “Now that I’ve told you something about me, it’s your turn. Start talking.”

”Alright, fine.” I inhaled sharply. “The Demogorgon statue, right? That’s the real reason I’m in this town.”

Mike gasped dramatically, pretending like he hadn’t already figured that out.

”The person who requested my chaperone, the person claiming to be my father, had claimed that your family had stolen the statue from her just a few days ago.” I continued.

Mike typed a few notes about what I had just said, but then briefly paused.

 “But that statue has been up in my family’s news room for years, maybe even generations. My dad rarely leaves the house, Nancy hasn’t visited in months, and I haven’t gone to the Hilfe’s since I was a toddler. Are you sure?” He pondered.

I shook my head.

”I don’t think so. It’s very hard to fake dust, and I have no doubt that the statue has been in your family for years. But that not what set me off. Ms. Hilfe spoke of the statue like it had value, not like something that would reside under a tablecloth among countless other worthless pieces of junk.”

”Then why are you here? And don’t try to tell me it’s because you enjoy my company.” Mike pressed.

I frowned as I sat down onto the dusty staircase.

”Because I’m just an apprentice, and no one takes an apprentice’s word over their chaperone’s. My chaperone is still convinced your family stole the statue. So, I’m going to stay here until midnight and ‘steal’ the statue with him.” I said, using finger-quotes on steal. “It’s not ideal, I know, but I don’t really have a choice.”

Mike quickly jotted a note down and pushed the typewriter aside, grabbing my hand to make sure he had my attention.

”This person,” He began. “Do they live in here, in Hawkins?”

I nodded my head, though I had been wrong.

”Yes, why do you ask?” I asked.

Bjt instead of giving an answer, Mike swiftly stood and ran up the stairs and only came back when finding what he was supposedly looking for.

”Look,” he said, pushing a telegram into my hands.

The telegram was dated about 6 months before my graduation, and was written to  Ted Wheeler, Mike’s father. 

Somthing I had failed to notice, though, was that it had been sent from the town I was supposed to be in right now: Indianapolis.

**_GREETINGS SIR STOP_ **

**_I AM VERY INTERESTED IN A CERTAIN STATUE I BELIEVE IS IN YOUR HOME STOP I BELIEVE IT IS CALLED THR DEMOGORGON STOP IF YOU ARE WILLING TO SELL IT TO ME I BELIEVE YOU WILL BE PLEASED WITH THE PRICE I AM WILLING TO PAY STOP PLEASE REPLY AT YOUR EARLIEST CONVENIENCE STOP END MESSAGE_ **

””I believe it is called the Demogorgon..” I read aloud, tracing over the text with my finger. “Your father.. did he reply?”

”By the time he was sent this message,” Mike said, joining me on the steps. “He had already given up and ‘promoted’ me to his personal message reporter, but only things like bills and letters from mom.”

I noted the scoff on mom, but had decided to ignore it and ask another question.

”Well, did  _you_ reply?”

”I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. Hawkins’ last telegram shut down about a week after I received this one.” He said, gesturing to the paper in my hands.

”So what you’re saying,” I said a little worrisome. “Is that there can be hundreds of unanswered telegrams?”

Mike nodded his head.

”I’m not worried though, El. If this person really wanted the statue and would do anything to get it, I’m sure some action would have been taken by now.” 

“Oh?”

”Yeah.” He laughed. “Like attempted murder, or kidnapping!”

”Attempted?  _Ha!_ How ‘bout actual murder?” I asked, joining in on Mike’s lack of seriousness.

 Mike barked out a laugh and wiped a fake tear from his eye.

”Okay,” he said, finally regaining his sanity. “Because it’s obvious you’re not going anywhere, what do you want to do until midnight?”

I smiled. Finally a question I could answer.

”You wouldn’t happen to have any food?” I asked sheepishly. “The last thing I drank was drugged, so my chaperone tossed it out my window.”

”Huh?”

”I’m hungry, Michael. Food. Eat.” I said, gesturing to my stomach. 

“Oh,” he said, though he seemed quite confused. “I’m not sure I have anything we could make dinner with.. My dad said he would go to the market, but he hasn’t left the house since the last market closed.

I thought for a second before speaking again.

”Well, do you have a bulb of garlic, a lemon, a cup of walnuts, some cheese, pasta, and a fair amount of olive oil?” I finally asked.

”I think so?” He said. Is asiago okay?” 

“Perfect.” I said, and the followed Mike down into the light house’s small kitchenette, which had been stacked with dirty dishes and typed up pages.

I watched as Mike cleared a small path of the mess and got to work.

While he found the ingredients, I started to prepare the garlic by peeling it and toasted the walnut by putting them in the oven.

I put on a pot of water to boil and coated another pan with olive oil while Mike looked for something to drink.

I had been hoping for some sort of juice , but instead he presented a Coca Cola. It tasted fine, but it for some reason left me extremely uncomfortable.

Huh.

Together we plucked leaves off of a basil plant and squeezed juice from a lemon, which Mike ended up drinking a bit of and immediately regretting his decisions.

After that, we ended up mixing all the ingredients in a bowl and sitting down to enjoy a well deserved bowl of Orecchiette al Pesto.

It felt good in my empty belly.

I finished before Mike, wiped my mouth, and layed back in satisfaction one on of the table’s wobbly chairs.

”So?” Mike asked, finishing his own bowl of pasta.

”DId you know?” I grinned evilly. “That orecchiette is Italian for ‘Little Ears?’ It’s called that because of the shape of the noodles, though some people don’t enjoy the though of eating a bowl of e-“

”El.” Mike cut me off sharply. “That’s not what I mean, and you know that. Why does some random person want a long forgotten statue?”

”I don’t know.” I shrugged.

But instead of complaining, Mike reached over to his typewriter and wrote a few sentences before peering back up at me.

”There’s something going on here that we can’t see.” He said.

”Can we ever truly see the full picture, Mike? You’re either told everything you don’t want to know and end up a hurt, lonely person pursuing chores for an ungrateful world, or told nothing at all and end up growing in a small town that’s getting thinner by the day with nothing but ambition to know what you haven’t been told. There’s no in between, Mike.”

Mike smiled and began to copy down everything I had just said.

I had meant to get up and put our dirty dishes in the sink, but found almost drawn to the ringing of the typewriter. So, I insisted went against my better judgment and continued to sit at the old table.

”Do you like typing up everything that happens in this world?” I asked Mike.

But instead of getting a grin and an explanation from him, Mike flashed a more sad then genuine smile.

”Not particularly, no.” He responded. “It’s just what I’ve grown up doing. My sister did it, my dad did it, my mom still does it, and then there’s me. But that’s not how I look at it, yah know? Sometimes you just have so do things you don’t want to do.”

”Well, then what do you like doing?” 

“Well..” He smiled. “Dungeons and Dragons is pretty cool!”

I laughed and gave Mike a fake shove.

”You do know that’s technically writing, right?” I said.

Mike thought about it for a second.

”I suppose.. but that’s not the point. Do you like whatever you do?” He asked, gesturing to me.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and avoiding Mike’s staring eyes.

”Of course.” I lied. “You meet a lot of people, good and bad, and you see plenty of amazing places.”

I was almost certain Mike was going to ask another question, as he had lifted his hand in a manor that signaled that he was going to say something else, but quickly interrupted by the familiar clanging of the bell.

Mike frowned and rose to his feet. He walked over to a large cabinet and swung the even larger doors open.

”There isn’t usually an alarm at this hour..” He said cautiously.

”Well, when does it usually ring?” I asked.

”It depends, really. For awhile Hawkins would go days without a warning, but recently it’s been going as much as four times a day.”

”Who rings it, anyway?”

I watched as Mike stood on his tippy-tors to reach something on the top shelf, but frown when he couldn’t reach it.

”Some kids from that over the top academy just out of town. Everyone talks about how nice it is, but it’s really just austere..” he said, walking back to the table to grab his chair.

”You seem to have opinions about a lot of things in this town.” I smiled teasingly.

”It’s hard not too.” He said, stepping onto the chair and grabbing two masks from the top shelf. “It’s kind of like living in Ohio, right? Sure there’s plenty of nice things there: You got the sports team, you’ve got the politics, and there was even a small war there. But other than that, it’s nothing but corn, livestock, and crumbling infrastructure with absolutely no wheather pattern.”

And with that, Mike hopped of his chair and back to the table, this time with two masks in hand.

”Don’t worry, El. We keep plenty of spare masks around. You won’t get salt lung, not today.” He smiled, handing me the bulky mask.

”Salt lung?” I asked, taking the mask. “Why Salt Lung?”

”The what the bell is for.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Whenever there’s a large gust of wind, it blows of the salt left behind from the now nonexistent quarry. It can do some weird things to your lungs, like make mushrooms grow in them making it very hard to breath.”

”That seems unlikely.. besides, I heard it was because of water pressure.” 

Mike sighed as he placed on his mask.

”Where did you hear that?” He mumbled.

”From my chaperone..” I said. “Where’d you hear about Salt Lung?”

”Some society put out a pamphlet,” he said, nodding to an over-stuffed drawer. “Whatever it is, you should probably but your mask on before you get it.”

”Right.” I mumbled, awkwardly putting the bulky cover on my face. 

“And you have to wear this up to four times a day?” I asked cautiously.

”It’s not fun, I know. I don’t like talking in them.” Mike said. “Shall we just read until we get the all clear?”

I nodded my head, noting Mike’s discomfort to talking with the masks on.

***

Mike led me into a small room with walls stuffed with book shelfs and books, a large lamp standing tall in the middle.

There was two large chairs to sit in, except one of them had been stacked high with hundreds of pages of typed notes. The other, a large book about how to save a failing newspaper business and how to raise a son all by yourself.

On the carpet, you can see the markings of where a third and fourth chair used to lay.

”You can help yourself to anything in the library.” Mike said as he moved the large pile of papers to his lap.

I found a book all about some weird lumber business that has since been shut down.

It talked mainly about the author’s progress to getting where he was when he had written the book, Lumber, his reasonings for forced labor (even on children), and a little bit about a fire set in the town with most of its passage crossed out. 

I shut the book soon after it started to talk about the history of termites.

I hastily stood up from my feet, carful not to catch Mike’s attention.

I found it more interesting to think about how I was about to was about to steal a statue and glide down a hawser stretching thousands of feet. 

Interesting meaning nervously, because god was I nervous.

I could hear my associate’s nagging voice telling me how wrong it was to steal an object that most likely wasn’t even stolen to begin with, even if I was given permission.

 ‘If you know this isn’t right, then why do it?’ I could hear her say. ‘Do you think this is something your mother would approve of? Do you think she would have wanted this for you?”

I felt the world darken over, leaving me in a dark, emotionless void with no one except me, my associate, and the lingering feeling that something wasn’t right.

 ‘Do you think this is noble? Jane, what you’re doing is wrong, nothing like what our organization is know for.’ She said, her voice becoming colder and colder.

 ‘Jane, if you do this, you’re giving into what he wants, what  _he_ wanted when he took you from your mother.”

”No,” I chocked, but I couldn’t tell if any sound came out. “No, No you’re wrong, I’m different, I’m different,  _I’m Different.”_

But it didn’t matter.

The illusion of my associate kept spatting lies about everything I was about to do.

I felt myself crumble to the floor- Do voids have floors? - and feel and the pain and guilt come rushing in.

”Jane,” The hollow voice of my associate spoke.

But I didn’t respond. 

“Jane,” She repeated. “Jane,”

Everytime the sick illusion spoke, I felt myself loose more any more of my sanity.

”Just leave me alone..” I cried. “Please..”

”Jane.” The voice continued, but it was more manly then the times before.

”Jane.” It continued.

”El!” a new voice, Mike’s voice, yelled.

The world reconnected around me.

Instead of He dark, twisted void, there lay Mike’s meek library, Demogorgon decor and all.

It was the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

”Hey, are you alright?” He asked calmly, rubbing circles on my back.

I nodded my head, but I even I couldn’t fool myself.

But instead of pressing harder, Mike merely helped me up to my feet and took the clunky mask off my face.

”But what about the water pressure, the salt lung, the-“ I stumbled.

“The bell rang, you’ll live, I promise.” Mike said calmly. “But that’s not the only bell that rang..”

For the first time in awhile, I peered up at Mike to see his glance was a little more worried then usual.

”Did the- the bell rang? How many times?” I asked anxiously.

”Twelve, El. It’s time.”

***

”There is no way in hell that after everything that’s about to happen, I’m going to bed!” Mike said excitedly. “I really don’t want to miss all the fun!”

”Mike, you understand that I pains me to leave you behind on such a trilling adventure,” I lied. “But it’s really not safe. It would make me so much better if you’d just stay behind and not clime a hawser. Please?”

Mike let out a ‘hmph’ sound as he crossed his arms.

”With something so interesting, you can’t simply expect me to report it.” He frowned.

”Mike, we can’t  _burgle_ if your sitting there watching us.” I sighed. “At least.. hide.”

Mike quickly stood up and looked like he was about to hug me.

”Where?” He beamed.

”You’ve lives in this house your entire life, chose a place!” I said.

Mike nodded, packed up His typewriter, and dashed out of the small library.

I turned off all the lights and stalked towards the front door, opening it the reveal the cruiser, but not Hopper.

I walked a few steps to call his name, but instead let out a gasp as a hand covered my mouth.

”Shh!!” My chaperone hissed, taking away his hand carefully. “You’re going to get us caught.”

I silently nodded my head and stepped back a little, taking in Hopper’s outfit.

Everything tha could be black, was black. 

He had on a black polo shirt with matching black leggings that seemed more for a girl then a grown man.

He had black socks that reached all the way to his ankles, and black running shoes which seemed quite useless considering we were about to climb a hawser.

to top it all of, Hopper had been wearing a black police-chief hat, a heavy dusting of black blush, some sort of black-foam super hero mask, and finally: A black gun for.. actually, I’m not sure.

”You has burglary close in your suit case.” He whispered hoarsely. “Why aren’t you wearing them? You’re going to attack attention.”

But instead of responding, I pointed to the badly-hidden cruiser.

”The only thing attracting attention is your parking job.” I said softly.

But instead, Hopper let out a loud “SHHHH!” Before beckoning me to follow him up the lighthouse’s rickety stairs, to which we slipped in its even rickety-er door.

We made our way up the spiral staircase, though we had been walking up it very differently.

While Hopper was causing more of a ruckus then really needed by slide extremely close to the wall, I had been walking up the stairs like a normal person.

And we continued like this until we reached Mike’s news room and I pulled back the sheet, revealing the desired  Demogorgon.

I gestured for Hopper to grab it, but he didn’t seem to understand and gestured for me to grab it.

Angered due to my chaperone’s lack of knowledge surrounding basic bodily language, I hastily snatched the contraband off the table and shoved it into my pocket.

Pushing past Hopper, I opened the window to feel a cold gust of air blow past.

_This was it._

I carefully reached my hand out until I could feel tHe hawser’s cool, icy touch.

I held it steady for Hopper to grab with both hands, and then lowered myself out after him.

I couldn’t close the window, but instead waved a goodbye to Mike, signaling that I’d be leaving and it was okay to close the window.

I wondered if he could see me now, climbing dangerously over an entire forest of trees, along is old, forgotten hawser.

***

The long trip down the hawser was quite uneventful, other then a grunt of annoyance every now and then.

Infact, the most eventful thing that happened was after a certain glint of a candle - Was it a candle? It was hard to tell from such a height - from a little white cottage that I had previously was vacated.

 ‘Huh.’ I thought to myself. ‘The more you know.’

”El?” Hopper asked. “Why don’t you ask me a few questions, you always seem to be full of those..”

”Why?” I questioned.

”Because..” He grunted uncomfortably. “I don’t particularly enjoy heights, and I need something to take my mind off just how high up we are.”

“Okay.” I shrugged, though it was more of a pull up on the hawser. “Do you really think the statue was stolen?”

”Of course!” He barked. “The Wheelers obviously climbed down the hawser and in through the Hilfe’s window. Only a dummy would think otherwise.”

”You said they came in through the parlor,” I said. “By cutting a hole in the floor.”

”That was my original thought, El.” He rolled his eyes. “But now it makes much more sense. Climbing up hill is way harder then climbing down hill, so I have to be right.”

Fully knowing that arguing with my chaperone most likely wouldn’t make his condition any better, I didn’t point out the fact the if The Wheelers had stolen the statue, they still would have had to climb up hill.

Speaking of a fear of heights, there was a word for such a thing, though I couldn’t come to think of it.

Something-phobia.

”Ms. Hilfe said that the windows are always latched.” I said, brushing of the phobia thing.

”Perhaps they weren’t latched, like they are now.” He responded. “Look, the Butler is giving us a signal that everything is all clear.”

And sure enough, the faint shape of a person was visible, but so was some sort of faint light.

_Hydrophobia?_

 ‘No, that’s the fear of water..’

Just like the light from the little white cottage, this light did seem to look like a candle.

It wasn’t flickering, and it was bright red in color.

Yet I still felt like I had seen something like it recently.

_Agoraphobia?_

 ‘No, that’s the fear of wide-open spaces..’

”We’re almost there.” Hopper said proudly. “Soon The Demogorgon will be back with its rightful owner, and the case will be closed.”

But I did not answer.

Instead, I gasped as everything that hadn’t come to me before came rushing to me, like a burst of energy.

The fear of heights is ‘Acrophobia’.

And the bright red light was the one of top of the Officials Harrington’s car.

Without thinking, I did the exact opposite of what any sane person in my situation would do.

_I let go of the hawser, plunging down hundreds of feet to something that if I were to land wrong, could end up being my ultimate downfall._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Fun fact: The entire “A smile a child would give their sibling before throwing mud at them” thing? 100% from experience. That’s the kind of stuff that happens when you end up playing (because I was no older then 3) with a bunch of boys with access to hundreds of pounds of dirt, a hose, and no parental supervision. 10/10 would do again.
> 
> 2\. I still can’t believe the fact that after presumably sending telegram after telegram to the Mallahan (Wheeler, in this story) family and getting no answer in return, Hangfire (The antagonist of the story) faked his own disappearance, manipulated his family, broke apart other’s families, and threw an injured war veteran out the window of a very Hawkins’ Lab esqe hospital. Also, the fact the Lemony Snicket has used the “Hey, I have the location of your XXX, join me and I’ll show you where they are.” Prompt twice now.
> 
> 3\. I was going to write a sebald code for this chapter, but then realized that shit is hard and gave up. Sorry.
> 
> 4\. I’m sooo sorry for not posting this sooner. My life has been a living hell recently and MAP testing has been out to get me for the last 2 weeks. Fun fact though: I’ve grown up in a testing stage for education and was actually the cut off year on when Kindergarten wasn’t treated like first grade. I’ve been through 4 different types of state testings (Because I grew up in the states, but went to a German school until I moved to Europe a few years back) and oh god the hell. I remember those 100+ page reading tests where you couldn’t write on them, you had to use a number 2 pencil, and you had to fill in the bubbles *perfectly*. Weirdly enough, though, I only remember eating half a banana and my quirky teacher trying to cheer us up about sitting in the same position for hours at a time. (I was in 3rd grade)
> 
> 5\. Yah girl just had to throw some shade on Ohio :). Nice state, nice people, just super boring and has to many cows.
> 
> 6\. Guys El was kid- I mean recruited (VFD DON’T KILL ME) into Firestarter by a person who may or may not have been trying to get her back upon his appearance in the first chapter confirmed 2018. (Lets just say that Terry was a Firestarter who realized the bad in it all, left, but then got her daughter recruited minutes after she was born. As for Becky? YoU’lL hAvE tO wAiT aNd SeE :))
> 
> 7\. Probably not anything you guys would care about, but the (ASOUE) s3 photo leakage that came out??? Shookis. (Did I do it right? :D) Yah girl absolutely adores the Hotel Denouement. Everything else can leave. Sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s 2 am and I have a test to study for.
> 
> Let’s write a chapter of the fanfiction I’ve been procrastinating writing for the last 2 weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop whoop we’re back :D!!
> 
> Firstly I’d like to apologize for the late posting (I’m sorry for that a lot .-.. I really am trying to post every week) I had an ELA quiz on Friday that was the biggest of the quarter and found myself on the verge of a panic attack at 3 am all because I can’t remember the Latin root “Ician” means specialist, not professional  
> (Update: I passed?? I almost got a 100% and I’m so happy :’D!!)(Update,Update: you have a final in two weeks that will make or break your grade: Time to celebrate ;))
> 
> Next, on top of my already wonky posting schedule, we’re entering Inktober/Theatre Rehearsal month. While Inktober is something flexible and can be done at any point of that day, yah girl had signed up to do Tech (stage crew) for her school’s theatrical performance and will be staying at school until 18:00 :(. So I probably won’t be able to post normally until November.. sorry.. (Also?? I might just murder two people using poison darts my associate slipped me to steal a sugar bowl, also leaving a child an orphan?? Just a thought )
> 
> Enjoy~

 

The word seemed to disappear around me as I fell through the air, the world turning blacker than the ink produced in this very town.

I tried to remember the countless classes of how to fall, how not to die when falling, and how to land without breaking every bone in my body.

But it seemed to just..

_Disappear._

Going everything I’ve learn- and apparently forgotten - I tensed up, preparing my for the possibly fatal blow I’d feel at any moment.

But it never came.

Instead, I felt myself crash into a tower of trees, breaking my fall from what was quite possibly the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.

After realizing that yes, I was indeed still alive, I relaxed a little, though it was a little painful with all the sticks and pine needles poking against my back. 

 “That was.. impressive..” An unfamiliar voice spoke. “Where’d you learn to fall like that?” 

I carfully tilted my head in the direction of the voice, coming face to face with a girl about my age.

She had bright read hair that reached to be a little longer then shoulder length, and from what I could tell a good dusting a freckles across her face.

She’d been wearing all black clothes, just like my chaperone, with black gloves and a knitted beanie to match.

But oddest of all, she had been standing on what must have been an extremely large ladder against the already shaken tree.

”I’ve had an extremely odd education.” I mumbled, still shocked from the fall.

”Well,” she smiled. “Did this education teach you how to get down?”

”They taught my to wait until someone with a ladder came to my rescue.”

The girl smiled even wider, reaching out her hand to shake my mind.

“I suppose I’m your rescuer?”

”If you’re willing to, the yes.”

The girl let out a laughed and carefully picked a lead out of my hair, tossing to to the side before speaking again.

”The names Maxine Mayfield, though you can call me Max. I don’t suppose you have a name?” She said.

For the first time since I had fallen, I sat up and got a better look at her piercing blue eyes.

”Jane Ives?” I said, though it sounded more like a question. “Though I ask that you call me El.”

”Right,” She  said, taking my hand to lead my down the ladder. “You wouldn’t happen to be afraid of heights, would you?”

”Why?” I questioned.

Max shook her head as she continued to drag me down the ladder.

”It’s scare-conversation, to make you think we’re 50 feet above the ground.” She sighed. “But when really, we’re here.”

”Oh.” I frowned, hopping down after Max.

I peered up to see if Hopper was still on the hawser, or even in the tree, but soon found myself to be wrong.

”You Okay? Max asked. “Did you forgot something up there? ‘Cause if you did we’re not going ba-“

”No.”

Max jumped a little as I interrupted her.

”Oh.. good.” She mumbled. “Then feel free to follow me.”

Without warning, Max started to walk through the huge cluster of trees while gesturing me along.

Tnis kept up until we reached a White House with a sign reading “Handkerchief Heights.”

”A washerwoman used to love her.” Max said when she saw me looking at the sign. “She would always have handkerchiefs hanging out side the cottage.”

”Who lives here now?” I asked.

Max’s smile from earlier faded a little as she pulled out a key that gleamed in the moonlight.

”Just me..” she said sadly.

Max swiftly turned the key and pushed open the door to reveal a small room.

”We’re here.”

The cottage was nothing more than one small room with little more than a kitchen and bed with little room to spare.

There was a fireplace with a crackling fire  that produced quite a nice sound with the music that I couldn’t quite remember where I heard before. Beside it, a open window that seemed more fitting for a tree house than a cottage.

”Are you going to walk in or are you just going to just stand there?” Max asked, pushing past me and grabbing something   from the window with a swift motion. “‘Cause if you’re just going to stand there I’m gonna have to kick you out.”

“What?”

”Kidding, kidding!” She laughed. “But no really, come in and take a seat, I’ll put on a pot of coffee and you can tell me all about why you were presumably hanging from a hawser leading to the Hilfe mansion and why you fell into a tree.”

”I never told you that I was hanging from the-“ I began, but was cut off when Max grabbed my hand and swung me into the cottage.

”Gosh, don’t you love this song? Makes you want to dance the night away!” She exclaimed.

I slowly nodded my head, not bothering to mention that classical music wasn’t exactly the type of music you dance the night away too.

”I’ve never actually heard this song.. Say, did you say coffee?” I trailed off. “I don’t particularly care for coffee..”

”Well, then what do you care for?” Max said, turning to the small kitchenette.

”Milk, water, juice, tea.. up until recently I was forced to drink sleeping potions until my body learned to become immune to them, but that’s another story.” I recited.

”But no coffee?”

”Kids our age don’t usually drink coffee.” I shook my head.

”Kids our age don’t usually fall into trees.” Max smiled. “Yet here we are.”

I carefully pulled up a chair, watching her as she opened a coffee pot and scooped some coffee grounds into it from a bag sketched with a black cat.

”Black Cat Coffee.” She hummed. “On the corner of Caravan and Parfait. And the only reason I go into town. I don’t leave this place much.”

”And what exactly do you do here?” I asked.

Max smiled as she quickly shook her head, her spunky read hair shaking wildly.

 “Oh no, I’m not going first. You need to tell me just why you fell into a tree this late a night.” She laughed, though nothing funny had been said.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out The Demogorgon statue, placing it down on the table with a loud  _Thunk!_.

Max gasped a little, but quickly turned back to the coffee pot to put it over the cracking fire.

”What is that?” She asked shakily. “Some sort of toy?”

I leaned in closer to get a look at it.

It still looked like a man-flower-other plant hybrid, with actual holes for the mouth and eyes, but the only thing that changed was that I was only now relized it was hollow.

”Hollow.” I frowned.

Max carefully picked up to heated up coffee pot with some tongs and placed it on some sort of cutting board.

”While that’s some nice information, El, that doesn’t explain what it is.”

I carefully picked up the statue, frowning once more when I relized noting had changed since the last time I jab picked it up.

”I.. don’t know.” I admitted. “But I’ve heard it’s worth a great deal of money.”

”And you’re expecting to get this money.. desperate the fact that you stole it?” She asked, poring two cups of coffee.

“Something like that.” I mumbled.

”Then why did you drop into a tree?”

”Something went wrong.” I said.

”Well, what went wrong?” She pressed.

”You’d know better then I would.” I said calmly. “After all, you were watching me since my chaperone and I left the Wheeler lighthouse, presumably using those binoculars you grabbed from the windowsill so I wouldn’t see them.”

Max blushed scarlet as she turned away to grab the two steaming cups of coffee, avoiding my glance as she walked over to give me a cup.

”How did you know I was watching?” She said guiltily.

”I know things no thirteen year old should know. I know when people are watching other people from windows from a certain glint of a pair of binoculars. I know when people pretend to have been sitting in trees for awhile so when someone falls into one, it doesn’t seem suspicious.” I continued. “And I know when people pretend to not know something when really they do.”

I watched as Max sinked deeper into herself and began to drank her coffee.

”I.. I’ve been here for a few days, looking for something..I wasn’t trying to stalk you.” She mumbled.

”What were you looking for?” I asked, pointing to The Demogorgon statue. “This?”

” _My step-brother._ ” She growled defensively, placing her coffee cup back on the table.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I felt the air thicken around me with Max’s sourness.

”What happened to him?” I asked carefully, understanding how hard it is to be separated from a sibling.

”He disappeared.” She shrugged. “Not that I care for him, that son of a bitch. Unfortunately, he’s the only family I have left. After we moved to Hawkins awhile ago, his dad left my mom and my mom drove herself to insanity.”

”Sounds fun.”

”Oh, tons.” She said sarcastically. “Yeah, came home from school one day and he wasn’t home. I just assumed that he’d gone out drinking, like usual, so I wasn’t worried. But when he hadn’t returned by morning, I started to get worried.”

Max stood up to refill her mug, but stopped in front of the window instead.

”That was 6 months ago, though. Since then I’ve gotten phone call after phone call from some Hangfire person promising that my Step-Brother will never return.” She sighed. “I’ve followed ever lead I can, I’ve checked all the rumors. I’ve written hundreds of Missing-Person reports, each one coming up empty. I had lost all hope until I heard that Hangfire had been spotted here in Hawkins. I’ve been staying here for the last week in hope of getting even just a glance of this person.”

”At least he chose a good location.” I remarked. “Plenty of empty and abandoned buildings.”

”That’s what I fear most.”

I stood up to join Max by the window, leaving the full mug behind.

”This Hangfire isn’t just going to give your step-brother back.”

”I know. But I will do anything I can to get him back.”

I began to reach for her shoulder, but quickly thought against it when Max finally turned around from her spot from the window.

”I.. I just don’t know why he took him. Sure, he was a condescending asshole, and I’m sure plenty people wanted him to go die in a hole..” Max paused as she wiped away a tear. “But no one deserves to be kidnapped. I just need to find him. Not for me, but for my poor, poor, Mother..”

I sharply inhaled as is reached out to shake Max’s hand, sealing a deal I would forever regret.

”I help you.” I said comfortingly. “But not tonight. I have to leave. Thanks for the coffee.”

”But you didn’t drink any.” She frowned.

”I don’t like coffee.” I smiled, beginning to walk towards that cabin’s door. “Come find me tomorrow and we’ll figure everything out. I’ll be at Claudia and Mew’s with my associate, J. Hopper.”

”What’s the J stand for?” 

I began to answer, but was interrupted by a loud pounding on the door.

Max hurriedly rushed to open the door, to which the Officers Harrington stomped in.

”Hey, you’re that Jane kid!” Maria Harrington hissed. “What are you doing here?”

I winced at the use of my real name, but answered “Yes.” To the first question and “Visiting a friend.” To the second.

”What kind of person visits friends this early in the morning?” Alex Harrington frowned.

”What kind of trouble are you causing this nice, young woman?” Maria continued, reaching over to pat Max’s shoulder but failed when she quickly pulled away.

”Ms. Maxine Mayfield has been a long time friend of mine for many years, and when I heard that she was in town I could help but feel as if a visit was over due.” I said calmly, though the two officers made it clear what’s I said was the wrong answer.

”We need to talk to you, Ives.” Alex Harrington growled. “A very valuable statue in the shape of a mythical beast has gone missing. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”

I felt Max shift uncomfortably beside me, presumably shifting to block the statue from the officers’s view.

“I’m afraid I’m not to caught up on this town’s folk lore, and don’t know if any of its mythical creatures. It wouldn’t happen to be referred to as the great unknown, would it?” I stalled.

”For fucks sake, kid, your chaperone was hanging from a hawser frantically looking for you and some mythical creature! You know exactly what we mean!” The man cried.

”So step aside, we’re searchinf the premise!” Maria Harrington said, pushing both Max and I aside.

”What?” Max said, springing back into action. “You need a warrant for that! You can’t just barge into my cottage and demand we step aside as you rummage through my stuff! That’s illegal!” 

“Hey, let’s not get frisky now, little lady.” Alex Harrington said, to which Max’s face got red hot with anger. “Besides, we  _are_ the law. We’re the ones make the rules here.”

I watched as Max lifted her arm to strike the officers across the face, and was quick to drag her to to closest corner to stop her.

”Ms. Mayfield.” I said through a fake smile. “Why don’t you help we with theses envelopes and parcels.”

Max glanced at me with confusion, but hastily shook her head anyway.

”Of course, Ms. Ives.” She paused. “But I don’t quite remember what we were wrapping up to send off.. do you mind reminding me?”

But instead of answering her, I quickly grabbed something off of her small table and crumpled a piece of newspaper over it.

”Ms. Mayfield and I were just on our way out to deliver a package. If you don’t min, we’ll just let ourselves out-“

”Oh no.” Alex Harrington laughed as he stopped rummaging through a drawer. “You need to wait until our investigation is over. Then, after that we’ll drive you there ourselves to make sure you don’t cause anymore mayhem.”

”I think we can walk ourselves..” Max mumbled as she wrapped something up herself.

”I wouldn’t do that, dear.” Maria Harrington said. “The Demogorgon might get you, drag you to its forbidden lair.”

”It’s mythology. Demogorgons aren’t real.” I smiled cheekily.

”Ignore the bell and you’ll find out.”

Max rolled her eyes as she took the wrapped up statue from my hand and scrawled on an address.

_J. Hopper_

_Cynthia and Mews Motel_

_Hawkins, Indiana_

“Why didn’t you address it to me?” I whispered to the girl upon reading what she had written.

”No one sends packages to people who are standing right next to themselves.” She shot back.

I glanced at the two officers who had still been searching through the house to make sure they hadn’t been listening in on our conversation.

”I doubt the mail service is reliable here..” I mumbled worriedly.

”You’ll be fine.” Max said. “For a crumbling town with such a small population, the mail service is actually pretty decent. You should get it by morning.”

I smiled as Max handed me one of the packages, signaling everything would soon be alright in a way.

“Thank-“ I began, But was cut off by a very angry Alex Harrington.

”We give up!” I grunted. “There’s not statue in this cottage.”

I sighed a sigh of relief as I waved to Max, who seemed to have more of a guilty look then a happy one, despite the fact that we managed to get away unharmed.

”Bye.” I said.

But instead, Max gave me a sad, limp wave and a meek smile.

”It was nice meeting you, El. I do hope that one day you can forgive me..”

I wanted to ask what that last part meant, but was quickly ushered out my the Officers Harrington.

”Come on kid, we have to get going.” Maria said, closing the door behind her.

***

 “Thank you!” I shouted to the Officers as they drove away from the mail box, leaving me on the street.

 I carefully placed the statue in the box, watching it fall down.

I know I should have probably just brought the statue back to the room with me, but was far to tired to really pay attention.

Lucky for me, Cynthia and Mews Motel was only a short walking distance away, and I had been back to the building fairly quickly.

When Cynthia waved a sweet ‘Hello’, I payed little attention and only gave her a nod of my head.

I payed even less attention when I came face to face with an angry Hopper, who had opened the door for me upon knocking.

I didn’t even bother taking my shoes or day clothes off, nor did I care when I flopped down on to my Chaperone’s bed instead of my own.

”You’re on my bed.” Hopper grumbled, attemptting to move me but eventually laying down next to me.

”I know.” I said sleepily.

”You’re in big trouble, leaving me on the hawser alone without the statue. We lost it. We’ll have to stay here longer. We’ll have to spend more time away from your associate.”

 _I know_.

”It’s okay.” I mumbled, drifting off into the most wonderful sleep I’ve had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.I must admit that I find it odd that my breaks (usually from my portfolio, I’m hoping to become an animator after university :’)) I write this madness, which turns out x50 more stressful considering very few people read this. How fun!
> 
> 2\. We finally get to meet everyone’s favorite mischievous redhead! Correct me if I’m wrong, but this should be the last (other then the obvious big one) character newly presented until ‘WDYSHL?’ Which in of itself brings plenty more exciting characters :)!!!
> 
> 3\. Here’s a random fact: During my school’s Freshman orientation, they had a costume competition, and I made breakfast foods and called it “The Breakfast Club” (ha-ha) And for the coffee, I used the Black Cat Coffee logo :)
> 
> 4\. I was originally not going to write any sort of profanity for this, condescending it is an AU based off of a children’s series, but quickly found that most of the ST fanfictions have profanity and found it useless to censor anything.
> 
> 5\. I know this is super early, and we still have 5 chapters left in this book (1/4) but I’m debating taking a 1-month break after the 13th chapter is posted. I’ll probably write a few chapters, but not feel as rushed to translate and post. This isn’t official, but don’t be surprised if yah girl ~disappears~ to the Upsidedown for a month only to return back super pale and tired ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *clears throat*
> 
> So I'm back.....
> 
> Yeah, remember how I said I'd be back in November? Yeah I lied. I think it was maybe 2 chapters ago, I said that I had an intense English final to study for. Well, now it's an entire quarter later in we're playing that same game over again ;).
> 
>  
> 
> Another reason this took so long to write was because I had to write this with one hand because of some ~unfortunate~ events that involved a new family dog, a coffee table, a morning trip to the urgent care, and 2 stitches in the center of my palm that was supposed to be numbed, but only ended up effecting my middle and index finger. Fun. (But I did end up missing half a day of classes and got 10 Princess stickers, because I have lost control of my life and get too excited about the smallest things)
> 
> Danke schön!  
> -Amber

“Kid,” Hopper grumbled, turning on the room’s dark lights.

My eyes fluttered open to see a semi angry, semi tired Hopper standing at the end of my bed. (His bed?)

He hadn’t changed since the last time I saw him, with his stumpy beard still unshaven, and he had still been wearing the black suit upon other things.

”Don’t think just because I let you sleep, I’m not going to yell at you for the _ridiculous_ thing you did.”

”Mhm..” I mumbled, still sleepy from my nap.

”..So?” He asked impatiently.

I sat up on his bed and rubbed my eyes, attempting to give my chaperone a glare after I finished.

”Ms. Hilfe wasn’t home and she hasn’t been home for months. Someone called up the Harrington’s and told them we were burglars, and that was the red glint coming from the mansion. If I hadn’t dropped to what could have been my _death_ , we would have caught red handed with the statue and be shipped off to the city.” I said. “I don’t care if you’re mad at me, just save me that stress and understand why I did what I did.”

”Then where’s that statue?” He practically shouted

”Being put through mail services.”

Hopper’s face paled as he quickly stalked towards me.

” _What?_ ” He gasped. “Have you learned _nothing_ from our organization? _You can’t trust anyone, especially mail services!”_

But I paid little note to Hopper’s anger, as I had instead stood up and walked over to the small table nestled in the corner of the room.

”We’ll get it by noon.” I said plainly, running my hand through my hair to work as a makeshift comb. “The Harrington’s cornered me after they let you go, said they were looking for that statue. I had no other choice. So instead of completely blowing our cover, and requiring ourselves to burn Hawkin’s to prevent evidence, I did what I had too.”

Hopper’s frowned turned into something that was more of a smile than anything else. He carefully placed his hand on my shoulder in reassurance.

That’s.. that’s good.” He said softly. “I may not always show it, but I do care for you. If I’m being honest, I was a little afraid that I lost you yesterday.”

He paused.

”B-because I’d totally get killed if I lost a new apprentice, yah know, because no one seems to want to join a noble organization anymore, and they can’t really fire you, considering I’m technically a threat with all their information.. but you understand, you’ve been here since you we little.” He said, pulling away.

”Uh.. cool.” I mumbled, walking to the door to grab a coat Hopper must have pulled out from my suitcase.

”Where are you going?” He barked as I began to open the door.

”Out.”

”Aren’t you going to wait for your package?”

”As you seemingly like to point out, I have work to do.”

***

”Welcome.” Robin said cheerfully as I entered the library. “It’s nice to see you back here again, El. How can I help you?”

I smiled at Robin’s perkiness and gave her a small smile.

”I’m just looking for something to read, and if possible: and update on my book request.”

The girl joyfully skipped over the where I’d been standing.

”Well, then you will be more than pleased. I did end up contacting my friend, and she and her brother told of a few marine life books they’d be shipping in. One of my friend’s nieces is providing me with a book all about living on a tropical island, and one about and alcoholic coridail, along with one from one of my associates who wrote a book on law.” She babbled on. Though I suppose you’re more concerned about your order.”

I quickly nodded my head in agreement.

”Well,” she smiled. “I unfortunately did not, but I did get quite an odd request from the same branch looking for a book from our own little meek library.. perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

I bit my lip in excitement.

The chance of a response from my associate? The thought of it kept me on edge as the sub librarian spoke.

”What it called?” I tried to say calmly.

Robin carefully reached into her pockets and pulled out a slip of paper, holding her finger up in response.

”It’s a book by and author named ‘Don T. Worry’” she spoke with ease. “And the book is called “I’ll Mesure it Myself”. Though I don’t know why, it sounds like a type of math book.”

”It could be.” I said unconvincingly. “Say, can I order another book?”

Robin hastily grabbed a pencil from behind her ear, turning the scrap of paper around in her hand to a blank side.

”Sure..” she began. “But don’t you want to read your first one first? The library system can only keep your request for so long..”

”I’m a fast reader.” I insisted. “Besides, it’s only a matter of time before I return home.”

Robin carefully nodded, slowly bringing the pencil closer to the paper.

”Okay..” She mumbled suspiciously. “And what would the author’s name be?”

”Please.”

”Please?”

“It’s Belgian, like the last one.” I quickly added.

”And the title?”

”Please be very, very, careful.”

”Sounds scary.” Robin said, finishing her scribble on the piece of paper.

”I hope not..” I said, only to slip away to find a book.

I had been in the mood for a book I had already read before, whether recently or all the way back from when I was a baby.

I skimmed the shelves, taking in each and every title that I saw, running my finger across every spine.

I ended up choosing one about a shapeshifter who terrorized a small town in Maine.

Sitting in my usual nook in the back of the library, I had sat there for over an hour.

Frowning, I stood up and placed the book back where I found it. It really was a good book, and I was quite sad to see it go.

On my way out, I noted Robin, crouched over a box full of books.

”El!” She suddenly shot up, spooking me a bit.

“Someone stopped by and dropped off a package, a parcel maybe? Told me to give it to you.”

”Oh?” I gasped with a little more surprise in my voice than I intended.

“Yeah.” She said, as she opened up a desk drawer and pulled out the package from earlier that morning. “I’m not sure why they dropped it of here, though. Unless it’s from another library branch, there’s really no reason it should be here..”

Robin carefully slid the package towards me, closing the drawer as she did so.

”Thanks..” I mumbled, suspiciously picking up the package.

I began to walk out again, but suddenly came to stop when I peered back over at Robin.

She’d been crouched down on the ground next to large box of what appeared to be books. From the looks of it, she was looking behind the crinkly covers of the books, placing some in one pile and others in another.

’How odd’ I thought to myself before walking back over to the sub-librarian.

“What are you doing?” I asked cautiously.

Robin quickly peered back up at me, turning back to the books after she was done.

”Checking the jackets.” She mumbled. “You’d be surprised how often the wrong book gets slipped into the wrong jacket.”

”Really?”

”Oh, all the time.” She said blankly. “Quite often is it that you expect one thing, but end up getting something completely different.”

Chills raced down my spine as I hastily peered back down at the wrapped package.

”Really?”

”Oh, all the time.” She continued.

”If you’d excuse me-“ I said before quickly racing out.

Once outside, I quickly threw myself onto the police station step, careful not to break whatever was in the package.

I carefully looked down at the small parcell, tracing my finger across Max’s scratchy handwriting.

‘ _She wouldn’t lie to me, she had the world fighting against her too.. Unless she didn’t, you can never be too careful around a person..”_

No.

I can’t myself think like that.

I hastily began to unwrap the newspaper, taking note of each and every level falling to the ground.

I could feel my heart tightening in my chest with every layer passing past me.

Until there wasn’t any layers left.

There is my lap, under a mountain of wrapping, sat a coffee bag.

Not a statue,

Not more wrapping,

But coffee.

I stared in awe at the bag of coffee, even opening it to make sure she hadn’t put the statue in the bag.

There still had been nothing.

Throwing the bag to the ground, I watched as a familiar car pulled up to the sidewalk.

“You know, coffee is bad for animals.” Smiled Jonathan Byers, who rolled down his window to speak to me.

“Now if only we had any!” Laughed his little brother, Will. “Say, we have a few leftover doughnuts from Harrington’s if you’d like one.”

“The would be great..” I said harsher than I intended. “And a ride.”

“Got a tip?”

“Stephen King released an interesting story about a Pyrokinetic girl and her Auto Hypnotic Mind Domination Father who are on the run from a inhuman lab. It’s full of different climaxes, but I can’t say I took favor in the ending.” I said, sliding into the Byers’s backseat. “How’s that?”

“I’d say that’s good.” Will decided. “Though Jonathan and I enjoyed his other book more, the one about the demon clown? Yeah, that was a good one.”

“I’m sure they’re both good.” Jonathan said, shifting the car into drive. “Where’d you say you were going again? The lighthouse?”

“Handkerchief Heights, the cottage near it.” I paused. “And if possible, fairly quickly. It’s kind of an emergency..”

“An emergency? El, nobody’s lived there for years.” Will said, handing me a doughnut.

“Then let's hope you’re wrong.”

***

This vehicle couldn’t seem to go any faster.

Even with Jonathan zooming past all the stop signs and stop lights, disobeying every speed limit and driving law, it still seemed like it was going to take years to get to Handkerchief Heights.

I couldn’t help but think back to the early morning, after I had dropped from the hawser but before I stumbled into _Claudia and Mews’s._

_It seemed like one million years ago._

I had watched Max wrap the statue so carefully, even handing her the slightly crinkled newspaper to do so.

I waited on edge as she stenciled my chaperone’s name onto the newly wrapped package, grabbing it from her hands as soon at it was finished.

By the time we passed the Hilfe mansion, I had begun to unbuckle my seatbelt- about the only thing I was sure I knew about doing at this point. I thanked the two Byers brothers before rushing off into the trees until I found myself at a sickeningly familiar cottage door.

I quickly knocked on the door, preparing to open it myself assuming nobody would answer.

Yet somebody did.

I prepared myself for the worse, clenching my eyes closed in hopes of avoiding Max’s judge-mental glare.

Luckily, though, that never came.

Instead came the judge-mental glare of someone else I’d come to be quite familiar within the last two days.

“What’s the news, Mike?” I asked.

“You tell me,” He said, stepping forward. “You’re the one who told me to meet you here.”

“Mike, this isn’t a time for joking around.” I said, shutting the door behind me as I rubbed my temple in annoyance. “Why are you here?”

“You simply be this dumb, El, and I know this. You just talked to me a few minutes ago, over the phone. You told me to come here with my father, telling me it was an emergency..” He trailed off.

“Is your father here, too?”

“I couldn’t wake him, but that’s besides the point, what was so desperate that you needed me here so quickly?” Mike pressed.

“I..” I began, stepping deeper into the cottage. “That wasn’t me. I didn’t call you.”

I tried to run through the possibilities.

While Troy seemed like the kind of person to prank call a family in hopes of annoying, it soon became clear that it had to be traced back to someone interested in the statue.

That left Ms. Hilfle, who was the person who originally recruited me to steal the statue, and Hopper, though he seemed too hungover to mess with someone who could potentially overthrow his mission.

_I was stuck, I don’t know what's going on._

“El?” Mike asked carefully, noting how stressed I was. “If this is about the statue, was that phone call used to lure me and my father out our home? So.. whoever that was.. Could steal the statue?”

“You’re house isn’t empty.”

“And the statue isn’t there. Their plan didn’t work, and even if it did, their motive would have been long gone. They just didn’t know that..” He said, tracing his hand across the stove counter and flinching in reflex after coming in contact with the burners.

“Ouch!” He cried, pulling his hand back in pain. “You’d think a house that hasn’t had anyone in it for years’ oven wouldn’t be warm.”

“ _Why does everyone in this damn town say that?!”_ I couldn’t help but yell out in anger. “ _Did no one bother to even acknowledge the young girl here, all by herself? Did no one bother to ask why she was alone? Or if she wanted help??”_

“What?”

“Maxine Mayfield- if that’s even her name. Sure, she said it was, but she also told me she was packaging the statue, not a bag of coffee. She said she lived here for a little while while she looked for her brother.” I exclaimed.

“Unless that was a lie, too..” I said, feeling my eyes start to well up in tears. “Unless all of this was a lie.”

“Maybe this was all a test,” I laughed bitterly.

“Throw Jane Ives into some train station and force-feed her landinum, only for her to end up in goddamn Hawkins, Indiana and see how long it takes for her to break down, featuring putting her associate in danger and making her drop from a hawser and see whether or not she trusts some girl she met with something that will literally determine her fate!”

“While I’m glad you’ve taken an interest in making up stories, I feel like this isn’t the right time to being doing so. Whats going on? Who’s trying to break into my house? Who called me here?” Mike said comfortingly.

I didn’t answer, though, but instead turned around to look back Mike.

Though he didn’t seem interested either.

He didn’t even seem to be looking at me anymore.

Instead, he was peering out through the window, in the direction of the Hilfe mansion.

“Mike?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Where is that screaming coming from?” He finally mumbled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry about that :')


End file.
